Losing Each Other
by MyGinevra
Summary: A post-HBP, Alternate Universe romance of Ginny and Harry's year after the death of Albus Dumbledore.
1. Ginny's Mermaid

_A/N – Hello, everyone! As _The Hog's Head _is my version of Book 8, this story, _Losing Each Other_, is my version of Book 7. It is a post-HBP fic and was completed before the publication of _Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows._ It's completely true to canon up to and including the last page of_ Half–Blood Prince_. Although _The Hog's Head _is not a sequel to this story, you'll see some story elements and ideas here that I also used in _HH. _The story begins as Harry walks away from Ginny after Professor Dumbledore's funeral. Enjoy!_

**Chapter One**

**Ginny's Mermaid**

Ginny did not watch Harry walk away. She stared — unmoving, unblinking — at the chair where he had been sitting, hearing nothing, seeing nothing. She did not notice Ron and Hermione come up behind her, Hermione holding onto Ron's arm. She did not hear Hermione whisper to him, "Later, not now." She did not move her eyes or un–focus them from the place in mid–air where Harry's face had been.

She saw blurry figures moving at the end of the row she was sitting in. She blinked, and her brother Percy and Rufus Scrimgeour came into focus. The Minister of Magic's hand rested on Percy's shoulder and as he talked, Percy glanced at Ginny He nodded to Scrimgeour, and the Minister turned and walked rapidly toward the castle. Percy started down the row toward her, and Ginny got up. Percy clearly wanted to speak to her, but whatever it was, she did not want to hear it. She turned in the opposite direction, but stopped; her parents were sitting at the end of the row with Bill and Fleur. Her mother glanced at her, and then looked back at the castle and the figure of Harry, who was now half–way up the lawn. Molly turned back with a worried look, and peered at Ginny.

Ginny wiped tears from her face; she did not want anyone in her family to see her crying. She heard Percy as he approached, so she stepped up on her chair and jumped into the row behind, then did the same into the next row and headed toward the lake, leaving Percy staring with his arm outstretched and his mouth hanging open. She heard her mother call to both her and Percy. She glanced back and saw Percy turn and leave Molly standing half–way down the row, watching her children walk away. Ginny almost stopped, but Percy was still looking at her. She scowled at him and kept going.

She strode along the lake, trying to put away her anger at Percy, and at Harry. She did not want to be angry, she wanted to understand what was happening. What had seemed so solid had collapsed with dizzying suddenness. Dumbledore and Harry — both gone. Even though she had sensed since Dumbledore's death that she could also lose Harry, it was harder than she had expected, much harder.

Ginny walked, hugging her arms around herself, looking down, noticing nothing but the grass and twigs at her feet. As she moved along the lake, though, she became aware of a stirring in the water, and looked up. A short distance out a head broke the surface, and then the upper part of a torso. She stopped. It was a mermaid, its grotesque features unmistakable. It did not look at her, but as Ginny continued walking she was certain that it was keeping up. Every few yards it dove under the water, then surfaced again opposite her.

Ginny stopped again and faced the lake. The mermaid stayed above water and also remained still, and now it stared at her. Ginny, unnerved, looked around. There were no other people in sight; no one else had walked this way from the funeral. Looking back along the shore she could see that people were either going up to the castle or down to the gates and into Hogsmeade. She walked toward the forest, slumped to the ground under the first tree she came to, and wept.

She did not know how long she had been there when she heard footsteps. She stood and began to walk away; the only person she wanted to talk to would not be the one coming. But before she had taken three steps, her mother called her name. Ginny halted and said stiffly, without turning, "Mum, I don't want to talk."

"Ginny," Molly called again.

Now Ginny turned. "I said I don't want to talk about it."

"About what?"

Ginny did not answer, but looked away, over the lake. The surface was quiet; nothing stirred, nothing was visible. Molly moved closer. "Ginny, do you love him?"

Ginny gave a start and stared for a moment; her eyes went left and right. She was not able to speak.

They heard a splash, and they both turned. The mermaid was watching from only a few yards away; it stared without blinking its large, limpid eyes. Ginny turned to her mother, but Molly was gazing at the mermaid. "It's watching us. Or you, more likely," she said softly.

Ginny moved back to the tree. It was a little farther from the water and gave her a feeling of protection. Molly followed, but kept her head turned to watch the lake. She put her hand on Ginny's shoulder and Ginny faced her defiantly; there were no more tears in her eyes.

"Yes, I love him. I can't —" There was anther splash, and the mermaid was gone, leaving not even a ripple on the surface.

"Oh, my," said Molly in a very still voice. They were both silent for a long moment. Ginny had a strange feeling as though eyes she could not see were looking into her head. Finally her mother spoke.

"Ginny, he loves you, I am sure of it." Ginny, still looking at the lake, arched her eyebrows, but Molly continued. "No, I've watched you both since we got here. He looks at you the same way Bill looks at Fleur." She smiled. "And the way your father looks at me, once in a while."

"Then why did he walk away?" Ginny asked. She could not help her tears. "He walked away from me and all I wanted to do was go with him. But he won't let me."

"Where is he going?"

Ginny looked down and shook her head. "Don't ask me that," she murmured.

"Well, I think I can guess," Molly said, "but he's got to have help. Not from you, of course," she added quickly, looking alarmed. "You can't go off to do that, Ginny, you're too young."

"Why not?" Ginny snapped. "He's going off _alone_ to hunt Voldemort. He's not even letting Ron or Hermione go with him."

"I don't think they'll let him do that."

"Then why should I?" Ginny shouted. "He means as much to me as he does to them! I was there both times when we fought those creeps and we did a bloody good job of it, too!" Her voice fell. "Well, sort of." She sank down against the tree, put her arms on her knees, and buried her face in them. "I want to be with him. I don't want him to die," she said quietly.

Molly sat next to her and put her arm around Ginny's shoulder. "Did you know that Albus was teaching Harry this year?" Ginny nodded, and wiped tears from her face. Molly went on. "We all know that he was teaching him something, but we're not sure what, only that it must have something to do with You–Know–Who."

"Obviously," sniffed Ginny. "We all knew that. But he didn't talk about it, at least not to me."

They both said nothing for several moments. It was very quiet. When Ginny spoke again her voice quivered. "Mum, I want him, but does he want me?"

"I told you that he looks at you like you are the _only_ thing he wants."

"But that's not true. He wants to kill Voldemort." She gave a short laugh. "And probably Snape."

Molly said nothing. Ginny started to get up, but her mother held her back.

"If he wants to find You–Know–Who, he won't be able to do it alone," Molly said. "He will need help. Yes, there are people who want to help him, but out of all of them, he needs your help the most. Maybe not out there," she waved her hand at the woods, "but somewhere and sometime."

Ginny frowned. "That doesn't make sense, Mum. You're just trying to make me feel better. He told me that he wants to do it alone. He said I can't be with him." Her voice started to falter. "When he walked away from me I felt like my life was ending. I want what you say to be true, but what _is_ true is that I can't stand not to be with him." She looked at her mother as more tears fell. "So what do I do? Believe it or not, I'm asking for advice."

"Just be yourself. That's what he loves."

"Yeah, I've already done that."

Molly laughed. "I know. I've watched you since the first time we saw him getting on the train at King's Cross."

Ginny smiled through the tears. "Was I that obvious?"

"Only to me, I think."

Ginny nodded and looked around. The lake was still. She wondered about the mermaid and why her mother had been so interested in it. She also thought about what her mother had said about Harry. How could she know it to be true? Or did she just wish it to be true? Everything she knew about Harry, everything about the last four years . . . did it all come down to a brusque goodbye with nothing left to hope for? Why had the mermaid looked at her that way? It had been waiting and had left abruptly. What had she said just before the creature disappeared?

"Yes, I love him," she whispered.

"What?" said Molly.

Ginny did not realize that she had spoken aloud. "Nothing," she answered. She took her mother's hands.

"Mum, go along. If Dad or anyone else is still there, ask them to wait for me. Please. I — I'd like to be with everyone when I go back. But let me have a few minutes here. I'll be okay, I promise."

Her mother smiled and stood up. "I told them to wait," she said, "but come soon. The train will be leaving." She took Ginny's hands and helped her up, and held her for a moment. She turned and walked away.

Ginny went down to the water's edge. A breeze had come up, blowing her hair into her face and sending small ripples washing onto the bank. As she pushed her hair back, she saw, far out in the middle of the lake, a large, slim figure leap out of the water and dive back. Silver and gold flashed in the sunlight, but it left no disturbance on the surface.

She heard footsteps behind her and turned. Walking toward her from under the trees, in magnificent black robes with green and silver trim, was Rufus Scrimgeour.

Ginny's first reaction was panic – something must have happened to Harry. But Scrimgeour was smiling as he approached. Her next reaction was to run. She had no desire to speak with him, if that was what he wanted. Harry had told her about his talk with the Minister at the Burrow last Christmas, and that had confirmed Ginny's opinion that the Minister was over–impressed with his own importance.

She turned and began walking quickly along the lake. Behind her Scrimgeour called, "Miss Weasley! Please, I need a word with you."

Ginny did not know what to do. How could she not stop for the Minister of Magic? She slowed, and then realized that in her haste to avoid the man she had gone in the wrong direction, away from where she knew her parents were waiting. It would look foolish just to turn around and go back, so she kept walking slowly. Scrimgeour finally caught up, breathing hard, limping along on his walking stick. Ginny stopped as Scrimgeour, sweating and wheezing**,** came up to her. Now she felt badly. She knew about the injuries he had suffered as an Auror, but she had made him run after her. She turned.

"I'm sorry, sir," she said, looking at the ground. "I shouldn't have done that. You startled me."

"That's all right, my dear," he replied. "No matter at all. It's a terrible day for everyone, especially students like yourself. I understand how upset you must be."

Ginny nodded, and tried to hide her skepticism. She was sure that Scrimgeour had not tromped all this way through the woods on a bad leg to commiserate with her. It must have something to do with Harry. She finally looked at him.

"What is it you wanted with me, sir? Is everything okay with my father? With Harry?" As soon as she asked, she regretted it. It had just come out. A sympathetic smile came over the Minister's face, a smile that made Ginny trust him even less.

"Yes," he said, "they are both fine. That is, I have not seen your father since before the funeral ceremony. I did speak to Mr. Potter briefly, and he is well." He looked at her keenly.

"So... what is it you wanted with me?" Ginny repeated. She was beginning to feel uncomfortable. Scrimgeour's scars and mane of hair made him an imposing, even intimidating man, with an air of authority and strength. He was a good head and a half taller than she. His well–tailored and expensive robes contrasted with her own well–patched hand–me–downs. She did not like the feeling. "I need to be getting back," she said, looking toward the castle. "My family is waiting for me."

"Yes. Well, do you mind if we walk along here for a bit? I realize that this is all rather forward on my part, and I assure you it won't take long. You know," he glanced around, "there are some strange creatures in this part of the grounds."

_Like yourself,_ thought Ginny, now certain of what Scrimgeour wanted.

"You should be careful where you wander," he continued. His concern sounded to Ginny as false as his smile looked.

"What won't take long?" she said.

"Our conversation. About, well... about Harry Potter."

Ginny nodded. "I can't tell you anything about him."

"Well, my dear," he chuckled, "it's no secret in the wizarding world that you and Harry have been seeing a lot of each other lately, and I think that you must —"

"No," she interrupted, "that's not what I meant. I can't tell you anything about Harry because whatever we talked about is between him and me." Ginny looked into his eyes without flinching. There was no way this man was going to get to Harry through her.

"I understand," Scrimgeour said without showing any understanding. "You are two young people who have a, um, relationship, but surely you must know that Harry Potter also had a special relationship with Professor Dumbledore?"

"Of course. Everyone knew that. Look, sir, I don't know anything about their relationship. Harry and I aren't going out any more, anyway."

Again, Ginny was sorry she had said that. She did not want this man to know anything about her life; she did not want to say anything that could be used against Harry; and most of all, she did not like hearing the words. The lump came back into her throat. She was furious with herself and at Rufus Scrimgeour. She moved to walk around him and back along the lake.

"Ah, please, not just yet, my dear," he said. He put his hand on her shoulder and pushed so that she was on the edge of the water. He was very strong, and Ginny began to be afraid. She put her hand inside her robe and felt for her wand.

Scrimgeour reached, took her arm, and pulled her hand out of the robe. "I am not here to harm you, Miss Weasley," he said, keeping a grip on her arm, "but you are too young to understand some things. There is a war going on. You have already fought in it, and very bravely, too. But wars are fought with weapons, and Harry Potter is a weapon." He bent down so that his face was close to hers. Ginny was now very frightened. "Surely you can see," he went on, "that we — you, me, everyone who was honoring Albus Dumbledore today — we need Harry Potter. He must not act foolishly alone. He will die if he does."

He let her arm go. She rubbed it as anger began to overcome her fright. "I can't tell you anything," she scowled. She looked up at him and saw that the same insincere smile had reappeared. Her anger swelled, her face was hot. "But even if I did know anything, I wouldn't tell you. All you want is to use Harry, and if he does what you want he'll die just the same and maybe faster. You couldn't keep Voldemort out of the Ministry of Magic last year, and you couldn't keep Death Eaters out of Hogwarts this year." She backed away into the lake, ignoring the water that rose above her ankles.

Scrimgeour flinched when Ginny spoke Voldemort's name. "So his name scares you," she almost laughed. "Well, Harry taught me something, and that's what I'll tell you about him. He isn't afraid of a name, and neither am I, whether it's Voldemort or Scrimgeour."

Ginny was almost sorry she had said that, because the Minister's face hardened and his mouth twisted. Then she _was_ sorry, because his wand appeared suddenly in his hand.

"Miss Weasley," he spoke softly but his voice matched his look, "there are things I need to know that you can tell me. Don't be foolish. Your father works for me. You cannot keep to yourself what I need to know about Harry Potter or anything else." He pointed his wand at her face.

Ginny's eyes were fixed on the wand. She could feel her heart pounding. The water had filled her boots and her feet were cold, but she could not move. She was having difficulty taking a breath.

Something splashed behind her. Scrimgeour peered over her shoulder, but Ginny knew without looking what it was. She took a step away from him along the bank, but he immediately swung his wand to cover her. She stopped. Then several things happened almost at once. Another splash and a horrid, piercing shriek that made her jump came from behind. Scrimgeour's wand swung away again and pointed out into the lake. And something large and black crashed out of the forest. It was a centaur, and was followed immediately by another, this one gray. In an instant they were between Ginny and Scrimgeour; the black one completely blocked her view of him, the other stood slightly off to one side. They were both holding bows, each with an arrow fully cocked and pointing directly at Rufus Scrimgeour.

The black spoke to the Minister. "Lower your wand slowly, put it inside your robe, and slowly take your hand out."

Scrimgeour had turned when the centaurs burst out of the trees, and he took a step back when the black one came between him and Ginny. He lowered his wand but did not put it away.

"There must be a misunderstanding," he said quietly. "I am Rufus —"

The black centaur stepped toward him, its bow aimed at the Minister's heart. "There is no misunderstanding," it said just as quietly. "You are in our forest and we want you to put your wand in your robes."

"Are you sure you are doing the right thing?" Scrimgeour asked, his voice still low, more than an edge of anger in it. "In these times you and your people need to be careful about who is on your side and who is not."

The gray centaur lunged toward him and pressed the arrowhead to Scrimgeour's ear. "You should be careful about what is pointed at your head," he roared. "Do as we say, now!"

Scrimgeour slowly pocketed his wand and put his empty hands up. His face had turned dark. "Do you know who I am?" he said to the black.

"Yes," the centaur replied. "Do you know who I am?"

Before the Minister could answer the centaur turned to Ginny and lowered his bow, but kept the arrow cocked; the gray centaur did not move, its arrow was still aimed at Scrimgeour's head. As the black moved toward her, Ginny backed farther into the water.

"Ginny Weasley," he spoke softy, as though he did not want Scrimgeour to hear, "do not be afraid. Go back to your people. We will not let this man hinder you. Go."

Ginny's mouth fell open, but words did not come out; for a moment she stood dumb. How did this creature know her name, and why was it doing this? She found her voice, but barely. "Who are you?" she whispered. "How do you know me?"

The gray centaur stamped his legs. "Tell her to leave!" it cried. "You should not answer her questions, you know that!" It did not turn its head, but kept its eyes on Scrimgeour; the bow did not move. Ginny could not see the Minister, but he seemed to be staying quite still.

The black looked at the other but did not answer. He turned to Ginny and moved closer. He spoke so softly that she could barely hear him. "You know our father. His name is Firenze. That is all I will tell you. You must go now. We cannot hold this man for long." He stepped back, allowing more space on the bank between himself and Ginny.

Ginny stepped slowly out of the water, holding up the hem of her robes; her feet were freezing. When she stepped up on the bank, she paused and looked at Scrimgeour, who she could now see. He was staring at the black centaur in front of him. He glanced at Ginny, and his eyes narrowed, but at the same moment the gray stamped again and let out a harsh cry. Its bow jerked slightly, and Scrimgeour looked away from her.

Ginny began walking along the lake toward the tomb. She looked back once and saw the man and the two centaurs, one still covering Scrimgeour with its bow, the other watching her. And out in the lake she saw the head of the mermaid, also watching her. She walked faster, and then began running, with water squishing in her boots. Her feet began to hurt but she kept running. She came around a clump of trees and ahead saw the white tomb, the empty chairs set in rows, and a small group of people standing there, most of them with bright red hair. They looked at her, then started running toward her. She stumbled, out of breath, and fell onto her hands and knees. Her feet were in pain; she could tell that she had blisters or worse on both.

Fred and George were the first to reach her. "Ginny!" they cried at the same time. "Are you all right? Where were you? Why were you running?" They alternated asking questions.

"I – I'm fine," she gasped. "My feet are wet. It's nothing." She started pulling off her boots, and looked up as her parents, Bill, and Fleur arrived. George helped her take off her boots.

"Ginny," said Molly, squatting down in front of her, "what happened?" She looked at Ginny's feet. Her soles were torn and bleeding.

"Mum, it's nothing. I'll get something for it in Hogsmeade before I get on the train. It's these stupid boots. I've had them for two years and they don't fit. It'll be fine." She stood up. "See? It's just a little blister. Ouch!" She took a step and had to grab onto George to keep from falling. Fred took her other arm as she leaned on their shoulders. "Thanks. Ow!" she cried again. She took another step and swore.

Her father, looking bemused, was about to speak, but something in the forest caught his eye. The others followed his gaze. "Isn't that Rufus Scrimgeour?" he said. The Minister of Magic was striding out of the trees. He turned down the long curving drive and out the tall gates. Although he passed within a few yards of the Weasleys, he did not look at them.

"What was that all about?" said Arthur, still watching Scrimgeour as he strode down the lane to Hogsmeade. No one answered, but Mrs. Weasley, who was now standing in front of Ginny, turned to her daughter.

"Ginny," she said, "did you meet the Minister?"

"Yes."

"Did you speak to him?"

"No. He spoke to me."

"What?" Arthur exclaimed. "He talked to you? Why on earth..." He paused. "Didn't Percy also talk to you, right after the funeral?"

"Well, he tried to say something, probably about Har–" She stopped. Why could she not desist from speaking Harry's name?

"Harry?" Fred and George said in unison, and looked at each other. "Hey, we heard stories, Sis. You and Harry. That's beautiful," they alternated.

"No, it's not what you think. Ouch!" She had tried to take a step. "Let me down. I can't even stand up." She swore again.

"Ginny," said Molly, and Ginny looked up. Molly glanced at Arthur, then at the others. "Did Rufus Scrimgeour ask you about Harry? If he did, you need to tell us. You need to tell us whatever it was he wanted to know." She glanced again at Arthur, who was now looking worried. Fred and George were staring with avid interest. Bill and Fleur stood together, holding hands, also staring, but Fleur had a thoughtful look. She caught Ginny's eye and smiled softly.

"Okay," Ginny took a breath, and recounted what the Minister had asked. "Then," she finished, "I told him it was none of his business, and he pulled his wand on me."

"What?" they all exclaimed at the same time. Ginny almost laughed, but stopped when she saw the expressions on her parents' faces.

"How dare he!" Molly cried. "Who does he think he is?" She turned to Arthur. "Drawing a wand on an underage witch! That's outrageous. Arthur —"

Ginny had never seen her father so angry. He turned and took a step toward the gates, but Ginny heaved herself up and went after him. "Dad, ow! Ow! Wait, there's something else!" She swore again and sat down, holding her feet. Her father hesitated and turned back. "What else happened?" he demanded.

"I think he was just trying to scare me," Ginny said. Then she spoke directly to her mother. "But the mermaid came back—" she could almost feel the twins' astonishment "— and it distracted him for a second, and then two— two centaurs came out of the woods." She could not help stammering. "What are you all looking at?" she giggled; they were gaping at her. "It was just like another stroll in the Forbidden Forest. Happens all the time."

"Ginny, don't joke." Her father was still angry. "What did they do?"

"Well, they both had their bows pointing at him, and —" Her father started; her mother shrieked and put her hand to her mouth.

"With arrows?" the twins said.

"Of course with arrows. How stupid would that be, pointing an empty bow at someone?" Ginny said as she bent over and squeezed her right foot. "Ouch."

"So..." Fred and George urged, "then what?"

"Then they just told me to go. But what was weirdest was that they knew my name. One of them said that their father was Firenze." She looked at her parents. "He's the one that Professor Dumbledore got to teach Divination last year. Maybe that's how they knew my name."

There were several moments of silence. Molly spoke. "No, dear, that's not how they knew your name." She glanced at Arthur, and he nodded. "They knew your name because of Harry."

"What do you mean, because of Harry?" Ginny was almost afraid of what her mother would say.

"I mean," Molly continued, "the mermaid, the centaurs... These things don't just happen." She squatted again and held Ginny's shoulders, as she had when they were together by the lake. She glared at the twins. "None of this goes anywhere else," she said to them. "It stays in the Order. Understand?"

"Sure, Mum," George said quietly. "Understood, Mum," Fred added.

Ginny was taken aback. "Well, I don't understand any of it. Why are they interested in me? What did I do?"

Her mother hesitated, and looked up at Arthur. His eyes were no longer angry; he was smiling slightly. "Because you are Harry Potter's girl," he said simply.

"Whoa!" said Fred and George together; their father and mother both shot them looks. Fleur smiled again.

Ginny sucked in a breath; she could not stop her heart from hammering. Her father continued. "These creatures know something is happening in the world, something big, and they know that it has something to do with Harry. And when they find Harry in their visions, or whatever it is they have, it seems that they also see you." He shook his head. "Don't be flattered, Ginny. When non–humans start noticing us it's usually not because pleasant times are coming. They notice us because bad things will be happening to themselves because of what humans are doing to each other."

Ginny did not answer. She was thinking about what it meant to be minded by a mermaid and a centaur because she had just spent a month as Harry's girlfriend. She involuntarily looked up the lawn to the castle. She knew Harry would not be there, but that was the place where she had last seen him. The spot was empty, just like the other spot, the one next to her when she had been sitting with him after the funeral. She could not help the lump in her throat, but she fought the tears back and looked at her father.

Arthur was now staring toward Hogsmeade. "Well," he said, "I need to see someone in the village. Anyone want to join me? Boys?" He glanced at his sons and then started walking.

Fred and George followed immediately. Bill hesitated a moment. He looked at Fleur who whispered in his ear and put her hand on his face, and then he went after them.

Molly smiled at Ginny and Fleur. "I guess we'll find out later how Rufus is," she said. "But let's go take care of your feet before the train leaves." She took Ginny's arm, Fleur took the other, and they slowly followed the Weasley men to Hogsmeade and the Hogwarts Express.


	2. London Express

**Chapter Two**

**London Express**

Ginny gazed out the compartment window onto the crowded, noisy platform at Hogsmeade Station. Students, parents, Hogwarts staff, Ministry officials, and sundry wizards and witches milled about waiting to board the train or bid goodbye to someone. She could also see at least a dozen Aurors lurking around the edges of the crowd and up the High Street in the village. A group of prefects at the back of the platform were gathered around one of the Aurors. Ginny opened the window and shouted at them. "Hermione!"

Ron and Hermione both turned. Ginny yelled again and Hermione, looking surprised, spotted her. She said something to Ron, and pushed through the crowd. "What are you doing on the train?" she asked, looking up at Ginny. "I thought they weren't letting anyone get on yet. We were looking all over for you."

"Hermione," Ginny said anxiously, "I need to talk. Can you come on board?"

Hermione looked back at the prefects who were now starting to move toward the train. "Okay, I'll be right there." She shoved her way to Ron, spoke with him briefly, and returned. In a moment she was at the compartment door. "Ginny!" she exclaimed, stopping suddenly. "What happened to your feet?"

Ginny was sitting with her legs propped up on her trunk. Her feet were wrapped in bloody bandages, and a strong odor like boiled Brussel sprouts filled the compartment. "It's nothing," she answered, a little hysterically. "They got wet while I had my boots on, and I got blisters. We stopped in the village at Dervish and Banges; they have some potions in the back. They don't hurt much at all now. I can almost walk. The bleeding has almost stopped, too. My boots are ruined, but Fred said they can buy me another pair —"

She stopped, leaned back in the seat, and looked miserably at Hermione. "What am I saying?" She put her hands to her head and shook it. "I can't walk. This stuff is making it worse. And it stinks."

Hermione sat down next to her. "How did your feet get wet? We saw you talking with Harry..." She trailed off when she saw Ginny's expression. "What did he say to you?" She put her arm around Ginny's shoulders and hugged her as tears started running down Ginny's face.

Ginny shook her head. "He says we can't be together. I told him I knew he was going to say that, but I still wanted to help him. He said no, it'll be too dangerous." She bowed her head, and her body shook slightly. She gave a deep sigh and Hermione squeezed her shoulders.

Students had started boarding the train and were passing the compartment. Hermione pointed her wand at the door. "_Colloportus,"_ she muttered, and the door sealed. She turned back to Ginny. "He told us the same thing, but we said no way. He's not leaving us behind, no matter how stubborn he gets. Sorry," she added as a sob escaped Ginny's throat.

"No, you're right." Ginny wiped her face and took Hermione's hand. She looked out the window for several moments, and then turned back. "Listen, I've got to tell you what happened afterwards, it was totally bizarre." She told Hermione about the mermaid, the conversations with her mother and Rufus Scrimgeour, and the centaurs. Hermione's mouth fell open and she gaped at Ginny incredulously. "So," Ginny finished, "I started running, my boots were full of water, and my feet got these huge blisters and started bleeding. My mum and Fleur had to help me into Hogsmeade and onto the train. I can hardly stand up. I'll fall over if I try to walk."

"Where's your mum now?" Hermione asked.

She's supposed to be getting on the train, but Fleur is staying with Bill."

"Well, now I know why Scrimgeour left the way he did. Someone said that he came storming into The Three Broomsticks, grabbed Percy, and they both Disapparated."

"Yeah, my dad couldn't find him." She shook her head. "I haven't seen Dad like that since he tried to beat up Lucius Malfoy. I hope he doesn't get fired."

"They can't start firing people now," Hermione declared. "They're already in too much trouble because of what happened here. Now they're paranoid about the train going back to London. You wouldn't believe what's going on. They're putting Aurors and parents in the first and last cars, but so many students have already left, I don't think we'll be more than half–full." She glanced out the window. "I have to go. They've got all the prefects organized to patrol the cars. I'll tell Neville and Luna you're here, and I'll stop by later." She squeezed Ginny's hand again, waved her wand at the door, and disappeared down the corridor.

Students passed the compartment looking for seats. A few glanced in but went on when they saw her feet propped up and got a whiff of the potion. Someone stopped outside the door, and Ginny glanced up. Pansy Parkinson was staring at her, flanked by Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle. Pansy's nose curled. "Whew," she grimaced, stepping into the doorway, "what is that smell, Weasel? Is that your perfume on your feet?" The two gorillas sniggered behind her.

Ginny eyed her. "Pansy, why don't you go register yourself with the office of ugly magical creatures? I heard that Draco's already signed up. And if one of you comes in here you'll all be going home with bat bogeys for faces." She had her wand out pointing at Crabbe, who had started to push his way into the compartment,

Crabbe backed out, but Pansy remained where she was. "You watch it, Weasel," she snarled. "You saw what they did to Dumbledore. You're next."

Ginny extended her arm with the wand. "Maybe, but you won't be the one to do it. Now get out!" At that moment Neville and Luna appeared. Pansy glared malevolently at Ginny and sneered at Neville and Luna as the Slytherins left.

"What was that all about?" asked Luna, watching them pass through the corridor into the next car. She came into the compartment and said vaguely, "What happened to your feet?"

"I was dancing with Neville." Ginny grinned.

"Hey, I never caused that much damage," he smiled back. "What happened? They look terrible."

"I took a short jog through the lake with my boots on. Apparently that causes blisters."

"Ginny, come on, seriously" Neville said, piling his and Luna's trunks on the overhead as Luna opened the window wide and started fanning the air in the compartment.

Ginny told them about the mermaid and meeting Scrimgeour and the centaurs; she left out everything to do with Harry. "Then we got some potion in Hogsmeade and Mum put the bandages on, but I think they've gotten worse. It hurts like hell when I put any weight on them."

Luna stared at Ginny's feet, and turned to the window. "I've never seen so many Aurors in one place," she said. "I guess they expect something to happen, but my father says that Voldemort's gone to Uzbekistan to set up training camps. Of course, he had to stop at Tenerife first to sign up recruits."

Neville and Ginny avoided looking at each other and managed not to laugh. "Well," Neville said to Ginny after a moment, "don't worry, we'll help if you need to get around. But that's really strange, what Scrimgeour did. I guess those centaurs were hanging around after the funeral."

Ginny did not answer; she was very tired and the day had gone on forever. She felt safe with two of her best friends in the compartment, and knowing that other friends were nearby.

People on the platform were calling goodbye to those on the train, and Ginny even thought she heard Hagrid's booming voice. Soon the whistle blew and the train pulled out. Ginny leaned back, closed her eyes, and dozed off.

She dreamed about water. She was deep under the surface and it was very dark. There was a bright light above, and she swam up to it. Soon she noticed that someone else was swimming nearby who kept glancing at her. She tried to see who it was, but every time she looked he turned his head away. As the light came closer he moved farther away, until he was lost in the darkness. She burst to the surface, and dozens of mermaids around her were talking noisily. One of them shrieked. Ginny awoke with a start and sat up.

The train was not moving, and Neville and Luna were in the corridor talking to other students. The train's whistle blew again, and Ginny looked out the window. They were stopped on a high bridge of some kind, fifty or sixty feet above the ground. Neville noticed that she was awake and came inside. "We just stopped," he said in answer to Ginny's look. "People are saying that the track is blocked or torn up or something. I think they want everyone to get off."

Ginny went pale. "Neville, I can't get off by myself. Go get Ron."

"I'll go get Harry," Neville responded. "I know where he is. We can carry you off." He started to leave.

"Harry's on the train?" Ginny blurted. "No! Not Harry!" Neville stopped in surprise. "Get Ron," Ginny said. "He – he'll know where my mum is," she finished lamely.

"Oh, okay." Neville turned to the door and swore. The corridor was empty. "Where is Luna? She should stay with you. I don't see her," he called to Ginny. "Do you want me to wait here?"

"No. Go get Ron. I'll be fine." She took out her wand. "Slytherin repellent," she grinned. "Don't worry."

Neville left, and there were no other sounds. Ginny took her legs off the trunk, but when she put her feet down she cried out and quickly lifted them up again. The pain was unbearable; the potion was definitely making her wounds worse. She slid over to the window and looked out. Straight down there was nothing but treetops far below. There must be a walkway along the track on the other side of the train, she thought. She slumped in the seat and waited.

The Hogwarts Express had stopped with the front wheels of its scarlet engine a few feet past the end of the bridge. The rest of the train, about a dozen cars, stretched back onto the viaduct, which curved gradually for a quarter of a mile to the opposite side of the valley. A few yards in front of the engine, sitting squarely on the track, was a massive boulder almost twenty feet high. A group of wizards and witches surrounded it. Those closest to the boulder, mostly Aurors and other officials of the Ministry of Magic who had been on the train, were debating how to remove it. Hogwarts parents stood nearby, looking nervously out over the valley and at the woods all about. Clumps of students were gathered in a small meadow next to the track.

While Ginny sat alone on the train, Harry, Ron, and Hermione stood in the meadow in the center of a group of Gryffindors. Ron slouched with his arms folded, scowling at the train and the Aurors. "They should have been patrolling the track," he grumbled. "Think about it. Death Eaters got into the Ministry when Fudge was Minister, and they got into Hogwarts with Scrimgeour in charge. Now this. They might as well give the job to Percy."

Hermione was looking down into the valley. "They ought to send some people down there." She pointed to the iron pillars that supported the bridge. "A few well-placed spells and the whole train will be gone."

Harry grinned. "Maybe we should go stand guard."

Now Hermione scowled. "No, we should not," she said emphatically. "No one should be wandering off." She looked around at the scattered groups of students. "Someone needs to do a head count so we know who's on the train when it gets going again."

"If ever," muttered Ron. His eyes wandered to some young Gryffindors a few yards away. "Hey, Garry Derry!" he called to a second year boy. "Why don't you count up the Gryffindors while you're standing around?" The boy looked at him uncertainly.

"You should be doing it," Hermione said to Ron.

"Nah, prefect's prerogative. I have to make sure no one wanders off. What do you say, Garry? Start with this crowd here."

Garry walked over, passing a peeved Hermione who was stalking off to the group around the boulder. "Should I just count the students, or the parents, too?" Garry asked Ron.

"Just the students,"

Garry started counting. Ron watched him for a minute, but then turned to Harry who was now sitting on the grass; Ron joined him. "I've got to learn to keep my mouth shut," he said, staring at Hermione's back. Harry grunted.

"So what are you going to do when we get back to London?" Ron asked.

"I guess go with the Dursleys and vegetate for a few weeks." He looked around; no one was near, but he lowered his voice. "I really don't want you two there. There's no room, you'll just get on Vernon's nerves. Someone can come and get me when it's time for the wedding."

"We could do that," Ron said, "but if we stay with you we can gang up on Dudley."

Harry grinned. "Well, that does put it in a different light. But you'll have to stay in my old cupboard under the stairs."

"Uh–uh. You're supposed to let the guests have the best. You can stay in the cupboard, Hermione can have the guest room, and I'll take yours. Or wait! I have a better idea. Stick Dudley in the cupboard and I'll take his room."

Harry snorted. "His room's a pigsty. Well, actually, so is mine."

Their division of the accommodations at four Privet Drive was interrupted by Garry Derry who had come running back, out of breath and looking scared.

Ron stood up. "What's wrong?"

Your sister Ginny," Garry huffed. "They told me she got off the train, but I can't find her." Harry's head jerked up. Neville, who was standing a few feet away with Luna, turned, a look of alarm on his face.

Ron scowled. "Wait a minute. What are you talking about? Neville told me someone helped her get off." He turned to Neville, who had come over.

"Garry, you told me you saw her get off the train," Neville said.

"No," squeaked the boy in a frightened voice. He looked up at Ron who was glowering at him. "That's not what I said. Someone told me they saw her."

Ron grabbed Garry's arm. "Who told you?"

"Ow! That hurts." Garry pulled his arm away. "Don't yell at me. I didn't do anything."

"Okay, okay. Just calm down," replied Ron. "Sorry. Now, who told you they saw Ginny get off the train?"

Garry frowned. "It was that blond girl from Slytherin, Patsy Paddington or something."

Harry stood up. But as he turned to look at the train, three loud bangs in quick succession shook the ground. There were screams from the crowd, and shouts from the Aurors near the boulder. A student standing near the top of the hill pointed to the bridge. Smoke was rising from the base of one of the pillars in the middle of the span. Then jets of red flame shot from the underbrush near the pillars; there were more explosions and more smoke as bits of rubble flew into the air.

"They're trying to blow up the bridge!" someone shouted. Aurors scrambled down the steep slope. Ron saw Hermione running back. "I told them!" she screamed as she ran. "I told them, but they ignored me! Now look!" She came up and grabbed Ron, but before he could say anything she turned toward the train. "Where's Harry going?" she said.

Harry was sprinting for the bridge. Ron started after him. "Ginny's on the train!" he shouted back at Hermione, and kept running. She followed, as did Neville and Luna. People yelled and scrambled out of their way as they raced past.

Hermione stopped as she saw Molly Weasley gaping at Ron and Harry. "Ginny's on the train!" Hermione yelled.

"What!" Molly cried. "How? Why didn't someone help her off?" She started after Hermione.

Harry reached the bridge, and as he ran out onto the narrow walkway next to the train, more explosions rang out from below, and he could feel the structure shake. He braced his hand on the side of the engine. He heard Ron calling from behind him, "Harry, wait!" but he shouted over his shoulder, "Go back! I can get her!"

Harry heard another shout and glanced back; he saw Hermione grab Ron. Another explosion boomed, echoing in the valley, and the bridge shook violently. Harry staggered but kept going. More people were running to the bridge, yelling at him. He heard Hermione scream, "Ginny's still on the train!"

Harry was now at the first carriage car. As he clambered up, another explosion knocked him backward, but he caught the handrail. He climbed the steps and ran down the corridor, looking into each compartment. Another explosion, and the train shuddered, throwing him into the wall. He righted himself and ran to the end of the corridor, flung open the door and passed into the next car.

Now he could hear distant shouts coming from the valley below. There were more booms, and one larger than the others made the train sway. Harry ran through the second and third cars, but they were empty. He opened the door to the fourth car, as explosions rocked the train, and saw a figure crawling toward him on the floor, red hair spilling down over her face. "Ginny!" he shouted.

She looked up. "Harry, I can't walk! What's happening to the train?"

He was next to her. "Here, put your arm around my shoulder." He knelt down. As Ginny held on, he bent over and picked her up in his arms. The train lurched and he staggered, slamming against a compartment window, shattering it. They reached the door at the end of the corridor, and he spotted Ron through the glass in the next car. Ron saw them at the same time and ran to the end of the car and threw open the doors.

He looked frightened. "Here, let me take her!" he called.

"No, I can do it," Harry gasped. "Just get the doors." They staggered through the cars. Half–way down the first car, a wizard appeared at the door and came running toward them. "Potter!" he shouted. "Give her to me. The bridge might go. Hurry!"

"NO!" Harry bellowed. "Get out of the way!"

The man paused, but stood aside and let Ron and Harry, carrying Ginny, pass; he followed them to the front of the car. Ron jumped down to the walkway, and as Harry was wondering how he was going to manage the steps, he heard a loud voice behind him say, "_Wingardium leviosa!_"

He felt himself rise into the air over Ron, who looked up at him and Ginny in amazement. It was a strange, floating sensation. Ginny seemed weightless in his arms. He held her tighter and felt her arms close around his shoulders. She glanced down, gave a tiny squeal, and looked at him with a broad grin. For a moment, Harry was back in the Gryffindor common room and Ginny Weasley, sweaty from a victorious Quidditch match, was throwing herself into his arms. Then the real Ginny moved her hand to his face. He looked into her eyes, only inches away.

"Ginny, no," he whispered. She closed her eyes and buried her face in his neck.

A crowd of people, including all the Gryffindor students, stood a few yards from the bridge, held back by Ministry officials. Harry floated away from the train and touched down lightly on the ground at the top of the hill. He fell to his knees and set Ginny down. He saw Ron racing toward them.

They were immediately surrounded. Molly Weasley held Ginny and Hermione hugged Ron; she and Molly were both crying. Many hands helped Harry up and clapped his back. "Harry," someone said from behind him, "are you all right? And Miss Weasley?" It was the wizard who had got them off the train.

Harry nodded to him. "We're okay."

The wizard smiled. "Good job." He put his hand on Harry's shoulder for a moment, and then moved away.

A witch with the insignia of the Department of Magical Transportation on her robes pushed her way through the Gryffindors and started pumping Harry's hand. "Mr. Potter! Mr. Potter!" she exclaimed. She looked at Harry with concern, and then down at Ginny who, with her mother, was fighting off students trying to pull her to her feet.

Harry noticed an Auror standing next to the witch, who was still shaking his hand. He turned to him. "Someone tried to make it look like Ginny had got off the train," he said. "It was a student, a girl from Slytherin."

The Auror frowned, and spoke in a low voice. "Slytherin? Do you know who?"

"Pansy Parkinson. She's a sixth-year, blond, not too good looking."

"I know who she is," he answered. "We'll find her." As he turned to go another Auror who had just come up spoke, and Harry recognized the deep voice of Kingsley Shacklebolt.

"Don't bother," Shacklebolt said. "She took off into the woods with two other students as soon as the fighting started. I expect they've Disapparated with the ones who got away." He looked at Harry. "If what you say is true, then she knew the train would be attacked."

"Well, she's on the list now," the other Auror grunted. He looked at Shacklebolt. "Let's get back to the rock, Kingsley." He walked away, but Shacklebolt paused.

"It's good that you look after your friends, Harry," he said, "because you may need them to look after you."

Harry hesitated. "Sure," he finally replied. Shacklebolt smiled and left.

"Well said, Kingsley," remarked Hermione, who was standing next to Harry with Ron. Harry shook his head wordlessly; he turned and pushed through the Gryffindors and walked to the crest of the hill. He peered down into the valley. The battle was over; he saw three bodies lying on the ground with Aurors standing over them; the bodies all had masks on their faces. Wizards were directing spells at the damaged places around the pillars. Ron and Hermione came up and stood next to Harry, who spoke grimly. "I'm going to find her and kill her," he said.

"No you're not, mate," Ron put in quickly. "I am."

Hermione glared at Ron, but turned to Harry. "Your list is growing quite long, Harry. Voldemort, Snape, now Pansy. Do you really think people like Kingsley will let you run around dispensing your own justice? Besides, no one died here. Are you going to execute Pansy even though Ginny is fine?"

"All right," Harry snapped, "I'll just hurt her a little, okay? You heard him, he said she knew they were going to try to destroy the train. And she tried her best to make sure Ginny would be on it."

"Harry," Hermione pleaded, "it won't work. You'll have everyone hunting _you_ instead of Voldemort. These people here are not the enemy."

Harry turned back to the scene in the valley. The three Death Eaters were now standing, each one bound by ropes that shimmered in the shadows under the bridge; their masks were off, but Harry couldn't make out their faces. Hermione put her hand on his shoulder.

"There's something else," she spoke gently, glancing at Ron. "Harry, you told Ginny that she would be in danger if she stayed with you, and that's why you left her. But look what happened. She wasn't with you and they still tried to harm her. If she had been with you or with us she would have been safe."

Harry shook his head. "She was a target because she was hurt. If her feet hadn't been like that she would have been safe."

"Then let me ask you something else, "Hermione said. "Why did you go tearing onto the bridge and into the train like your own life was in danger?"

"Oh, come on, Hermione!" he said angrily. "She's my —" He stopped.

"Your what?" Hermione demanded.

"She's my very good friend," Harry yelled, "and yours too, and Ron's sister! Isn't that enough?"

Hermione sighed and looked at Ron, but he just shrugged. "Come on, let's get back. I want to see how she is."

Ginny was now sitting against a tree at the verge of the meadow. Harry noticed Dean Thomas walking away; Neville and Luna were the only students still with her. Ginny's mother was hovering over her, and a witch, who Harry recognized from one of their trips to St. Mungo's Hospital, was inspecting Ginny's feet. As Harry, Ron, and Hermione approached, they heard the witch scolding Molly.

"Whoever sold you this should be thrown into Azkaban." She held up a small bottle of green liquid. "It belongs in a dust bin. It can't hurt healthy skin, but if it gets into a cut or a wound it'll burn like nothing else. You should have looked for me or anyone who knows what they're doing."

"We did look," Molly said indignantly, "but we couldn't find anyone and the train was about to leave. We had to do something! That shop is supposed to be reputable. Oh, Ginny, I'm sorry. We were so worried about her feet," she said to the witch. "It isn't permanent, is it?"

"No, no. Don't worry, I can take care of it. You were only trying to help." She patted Molly's arm and turned to Ginny. "This will take a few minutes, dear. Just hold still, it won't hurt." She moved her wand over Ginny's feet, muttering under her breath. Harry could see the raw blisters slowly closing. In a few moments the bottoms of her feet were only slightly pink. "Now don't go running around on them for a day or two," the witch admonished, "and don't wear tight shoes." She tapped each foot with her wand. "Good as new by tomorrow." She smiled and walked away.

Ginny got up, helped by her mother and Ron, and gingerly put weight on her feet. She took a few tentative steps.

"That's much better." She smiled and looked around. She saw Harry.

Hermione cleared her throat and pulled Ron away. She beckoned to Neville and Luna, and the four of them walked off. Molly stroked Ginny's hair, then smiled at Harry, hugged him briefly, and followed the others.

Harry looked at Ginny. "Seems like we're having these conversations a lot," he said.

"Harry, thank you."

He shrugged. "I really didn't know what I was doing. I – I just did it." He looked around; Aurors again surrounded the boulder, but now with their wands pointing at it. "Ginny," he said, "this doesn't change anything. It just proves my point, don't you agree?"

Ginny smiled. "No, I don't. But it also doesn't change what I said to you. And now I know that Ron and Hermione will be with you." Harry started to shake his head, but Ginny took his face in her hands. "Yes, they will. You can't stop them."

Harry took her hands and held them. "Why do you make it so hard?" he said hoarsely. He stared at his thumb, which was rubbing her wrist.

"It's not supposed to be easy," she answered.

"It isn't." He dropped her hands and stepped back, looking at her. "I – I have to go," he mumbled; he turned and walked away.

Ginny followed him with her eyes as he joined the others watching the boulder being moved. Hermione came over to her, and they saw it rise a few feet off the ground, then it and the Aurors around it moved together from the track into the meadow.

"That's amazing," Hermione said. Ginny did not speak.

"What did Harry say?" Hermione asked.

Ginny's eyes were bright. "He's still going off to fight Voldemort, and he still doesn't want us to be together."

Hermione turned to her. "And you?"

"Me? I'm fine. Now I know for certain that he'll be back." Ginny was smiling, and her entire face was so lit up that Hermione laughed.

"You're sure? He can be pretty pig–headed, you know."

It was Ginny's turn to laugh. "Don't I know it." She sobered and looked earnestly at Hermione. "You and Ron _have_ to go with him, if he really doesn't come back to school next year. Hermione, promise me that you will."

"We will, I promise."

Soon the track was repaired and the train puffed off the bridge. The passengers boarded, the whistle blew, and the journey to London continued. Ginny sat in the compartment with Neville and Luna, watching the countryside pass. Houses and small villages, then towns appeared. Luna, sitting across from her, looked bemused.

"What is it?" asked Ginny.

"I think my father was wrong about Uzbekistan," Luna sighed. "I don't understand it."

Ginny smiled. "I'm sure it was an honest mistake." She glanced at Neville who had his toad Trevor in his hand and was petting it. "So, Neville, will your Gran let you come back next year?"

Neville nodded. "She already told me at the funeral. I didn't even have to ask," he laughed. "In fact, she told me I'd better go back, my parents always wanted me to try at least one N.E.W.T. I think I have a pretty good shot at Herbology. What about you?" He looked at her intently. "Do you want to go back?"

Ginny knew what Neville meant, and she had to admit to herself that she was not sure of the answer. If Harry, Ron and Hermione were not at Hogwarts it would be a lonely year. And it would be a scary year, sitting at school, waiting to hear if they were dead o alive.

"I don't know," she said, looking at the tall buildings on the horizon. "I don't know what anyone in my family is going to do now, except that Bill's getting married. It's kind of depressing. Not Bill's getting married," she smiled. "It's just that everything is so uncertain. I remember leaving for my first year and thinking what a fantastic seven–year adventure it was going to be. But it didn't turn out to be the adventure I wanted."

"Oh, but you don't want it to be dull." Luna spoke, and Ginny and Neville both looked at her. "I think it's been grand," she said. "Scary, but grand. Why have it any other way? After we win the war there'll be plenty of time for boredom." She smiled and turned back to the window.

Ginny stared at Luna and wondered to herself, _What if she's right? _As the Hogwarts Express pulled into King's Cross Station and they unloaded their trunks from the overhead, Ginny thought of what her father had said about the mermaid and the centaurs: _"When they see Harry in their visions, they also see you_._"_

She noticed that she was touching her wrist where Harry had caressed it, and she felt a tiny up–welling of something from deep in her heart; it almost felt like tranquility. She suddenly leaned over and hugged a surprised Luna. "You're right, Luna. Let's all come back next year," she said, smiling.


	3. Summertime Blues

**Chapter Three**

**Summertime Blues**

Ginny sat on the deep sill of her bedroom window watching the sunrise. Overnight a cool north wind had swept away most of the mist that was making it such a damp and dreary summer, and the sun was coming up clear and bright. She looked back into the room, as she liked to do while sitting in the window, and saw her shadow slowly climb down the opposite wall; the light was diffused where it passed through her hair, which she had not brushed yet. She liked to imagine what it would look like to someone standing against the wall in her shadow, the golden light from the rising sun shining through her red hair.

She was already looking forward to this day, and the fact that the mist had cleared made the prospect of it even better. Dementors mist, wizards were calling it; she did not know what Muggles called it, or even if they knew what was causing it. She occasionally saw what looked like thin, dark, wispy clouds passing rapidly in the northern or eastern sky, and her mother had told her to let her know immediately whenever they appeared. They were packs of dementors on a mission of some kind for Voldemort. Molly, of course, still would not speak his name. "You–Know–Who's devils," she had started to call them, but Ginny thought that "dementor" was as right a name as she could imagine for those creatures.

She had got up early to get ready for Fred and George. They were coming from Diagon Alley to escort her back there, a trip they had promised shortly after her return from school. "We'll give you run of the shop," George had said. "You deserve a little fun after everything you went through with Harry and the other stuff."

"And," added Fred, "you will have your pick of a pair of the best dragon–hide boots from Twillfit and Tatting's. None but the best for any sister of ours who puts the Minister of Magic off his feed. Besides, it's almost your birthday."

It took some talking to persuade Molly Weasley to allow Ginny to Side–Along Apparate into Diagon Alley with the twins. Bill offered to take time from his job at Gringotts to help look after her, but watching Ginny mope around the Burrow by herself for most of the summer was what really convinced Molly to let her go.

Ginny had seen Harry at the wedding, and again only a few days ago when he had returned from Little Winging after his birthday. But on both occasions Ginny stayed out of his way. She remained in her room or in the garden, and when they met at mealtimes Harry seemed glad that she was avoiding him. He had brought his trunk, broomstick, Hedwig, and a few other belongings from Privet Drive and put them in Ron's room. Then he left with Ron and Hermione, but Ginny did not know where or why. She tried to put it out of her mind, which sometimes didn't work, especially at night.

As Ginny stepped down from the window sill, a small spot in the sky caught her eye. It moved like a bird, not a dementor, and she soon recognized it as an owl. It was heading for the Burrow, no doubt, and as it flew closer it steered directly for her window. She quickly opened it and stepped back. A dark brown owl that she had never seen before landed on the sill. It looked right at her and lifted its leg, to which a small parchment was attached. Ginny took the parchment, and the owl hooted and settled itself on the sill. It craned its neck to peer past her into the room, and then rotated its head to look backward at the garden and the woods. It seemed to be curious, as though these kinds of surroundings were new to it.

Ginny opened the parchment. It was a short letter from Dean Thomas.

_Ginny,_ it read, _I was in Diagon Alley yesterday and your brother George told me that you were coming in today for a visit. I was wondering if I could meet you at their shop and maybe we could hang in the Alley for a bit._

_You can send your answer back with Beckham. It would be nice to see you. I hope your feet are okay._

_Dean_

Ginny smiled at the owl. "Beckham. That's a cute name. Wait a second, I have to find my quill."

She wrote "Yes" on the parchment underneath Dean's signature, tied it around Beckham's leg, and watched as the owl flew off. She leaned her elbows on the sill and thought about Dean. She had fun going out with him, even if at the end it was getting tiresome, and Harry's kiss after the Ravenclaw match, surprising and welcome as it was, had put all thoughts of Dean completely out of her head. But she liked him, and he was a connection to Hogwarts and Gryffindor. Thinking about Dean, and the common room, and meals with her House–mates in the Great Hall, and all the other things that made up five years at Hogwarts, she felt even better about the upcoming day.

Ginny got dressed and went downstairs. He father had already gone to work; she and her mother were alone in the house. Mrs. Weasley was in the kitchen, humming to herself and keeping an eye on a pot of porridge cooking on the stove.

"Morning, Mum," Ginny said, taking a seat at the table. "It looks like a good day to go into town."

Molly nodded and smiled, and hummed louder. "Who was the owl from, dear?" she asked as she dished porridge into a bowl in front of Ginny.

"Dean Thomas. He wants to meet up in Diagon Alley today," Ginny said, starting to eat, and without looking up

Molly glanced at her. "That's a good idea," she said, putting tins of oatmeal flakes and sugar back on a shelf. "You need to see more people, especially ones your own age. He's a nice boy. Didn't you go out with him last year?"

"Um, yeah," Ginny mumbled into her bowl. "Yeah, he's nice. We played together on the Quidditch team."

"Well, that's good." Molly glanced at her again. "Maybe you should let Hermione know."

Ginny looked up at her mother, then back down at her breakfast. She finished in silence, got up, and took her bowl to the sink. "Maybe I'll do that," she said. "That's a good idea." Her mother smiled slightly and started a brush to scrub the dirty dishes.

There were three quick pops from the front yard, and Ginny looked out the window. "It's Fred and George," she called out. "And Tonks, too!" She started to unlock the door.

"Ask the question," Molly reminded her.

"Oh, right," Ginny giggled. She put her hand on the door handle.

"Come on, it's us." George's muffled voice came through the door. "Open up."

"Ask the question first," Ginny said loudly. "You know the rules."

"Oh, for — okay, okay. Um — what was it?" she heard George mutter.

"Who's your favorite Ministry of Magic official?" Fred yelled.

"Rufus Scrimgeour!" Ginny shouted back. "What's your favorite thing about Dolores Umbridge?"

"Her stupid kittens. Now open the bloody door already." George was pounding on it. "Or you can stay home today."

Ginny opened the door laughing. The twins stood there grinning back, and behind them Tonks, sporting a violent green hairdo and a long, hooked nose, was also smiling. "Hi, Tonks," Ginny said. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm Molly's bodyguard for the day," Tonks answered, moving into the kitchen behind Fred and George. "With you gone she's totally vulnerable." She winked at Ginny.

"More like you knew I'd be baking today," Molly snorted.

"Well," Fred cut in, "enough small talk. Ginny, are you ready? We don't want to leave the shop for too long."

"Let's go," Ginny said. "I'm ready."

"Just a minute," Mrs. Weasley interrupted, as Ginny was about to walk out the door. "I want it understood that you are not to leave Diagon Alley, and Fred or George or Bill is to be with you at all times, even when you're with Dean."

"Who?" the twins said together.

"Dean Thomas," Ginny told them. "He sent an owl this morning. He said he saw you yesterday."

"Oh, right," George nodded. "He's been in the shop a lot. Asking about you, too." He gave Ginny an appraising look.

"Just friends. Quidditch teammates, you know. And I need to meet more people my own age, not over–the–hill blighters like you two. Come on, they're probably looting your shop by now."

Her mother hugged her. "Have a good time. And bring home a nice pair of boots," she called as Ginny and the twins stepped into the front yard. As her mother closed the door, Ginny heard Tonks say in an incredulous voice, "Dean Thomas?"

Ginny Apparated in the back room of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, holding tightly onto George's arm. The room was piled high with opened and unopened cartons of merchandise. A young witch sat at a desk near the door, tabulating the contents of a carton on a long piece of parchment. Pulsating green and red cubes were strewn on the table and on the floor around her.

"Paradox Pyramids," said Fred as they left the back room. "We're not really sure if they'll move, but the supplier has done lots of favors for us, so we thought we'd give 'em a go."

"But they're cubes, not pyramids," Ginny said, glancing back.

"Exactly. Paradox Pyramids, get it?"

Ginny didn't get it, but she forgot them as they came into the front room of the shop. There were about a dozen customers inside. She looked around, and immediately saw what she was looking for. "Oh, you still have them!" she cried, and headed straight for the cage of Pygmy Puffs. She bent down in front of it and put her finger through the bars. "Ooh, they're so cute! How many can I have?"

"As many as you think Mum will tolerate," Fred said with a smile. "But look around. The shop is yours." He gestured around the entire room. "Have fun," he said, and walked to the counter where two more young witches were waiting on customers.

Ginny wandered among the displays and shelves, examining and marveling at the variety of jokes. There were the standard items she already knew, like Skiving Skittles — she made a mental note to take a plentiful supply — but there were lots of things she had never seen before. She saw jokes from around the world and from Diagon Alley. The store now carried a dozen kinds of trick wands. Some made nasty comments about the user's intelligence or looks; some turned into various kinds of animals; and some simply disappeared when you tried to use them. Ginny looked at one that made embarrassing bodily noises when it was put away inside a pocket, but decided instead on one that had a built–in jinx that caused forget-me-nots to sprout out of the victim's nose. All you had to do was point it, announce what color you wanted, and squeeze the end. It took no ability or training at all; maybe even a Muggle could use it.

The store gradually became more crowded, and Ginny saw that the street outside was also busier. As she peered out the front window she saw a tall, young wizard coming down the Alley, and recognized Dean Thomas. He walked into the store and spotted Ginny.

"Hi, Ginny," he said, coming over to her and smiling broadly, "how are you? It's good to see you."

"I'm okay," she answered, looking up at him. "You grew some more?"

"Yeah, I guess so," he laughed. "My mum had to fix all my clothes so they fit."

They stood awkwardly for a few moments. Ginny looked around. Her brothers were helping customers behind the counter.

"Do you want to go outside and sit somewhere?" Dean asked.

Ginny nodded. "Sure, but I promised my parents I wouldn't leave the store without one of my brothers. Let me talk to them."

Fred watched her as she came to the counter. "Ready to go get your boots?"

"Oh." Ginny hesitated. "Well, we'd like to go someplace outside and sit for a bit." She glanced back at Dean. "Maybe next to Gringotts? It should be pretty safe there, don't you think?"

Fred nodded at Dean, who waved back and then took an interest in the cage of Pygmy Puffs. "Sorry, Sis," Fred shook his head. "We promised Mum and Dad, you know."

"But we'll be right outside the doors," Ginny protested. "If something happens we can duck inside. They'd never attack Gringotts, they'd be idiots to do that."

"They _are_ idiots," Fred retorted. "But okay, here's what I'll do. I'll walk you over to Gringotts and tell Bill where you are, then you can sit on the steps next to the door. Actually, there's been an Auror posted right in front of the bank for a while."

"Fair enough," Ginny agreed. She went back to Dean and told him what was happening. In a moment Fred led them outside and down toward the white marble edifice of Gringotts Wizarding Bank.

As they walked, Ginny sensed a difference in Diagon Alley from the last time she had been there, almost a year ago. Then, people seemed to hurry about their business with furtive glances and withdrawn faces. Now it seemed a little more like the old days when all was bustle and noise and people greeting each other with smiles and talk. Looking up and down the street there were still boarded up stores, but the wizards and witches she saw seemed almost defiant in their purpose, determined to enjoy themselves without fear. She also saw pairs of Aurors walking along; many people nodded and smiled at them.

There were also more vendors in the street selling things from pushcarts. Ginny saw magical jewelry; an ice-cream vendor — Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor was still closed — invisible bird cages filled with dozens of yellow and green budgies; and one shifty–eyed wizard selling what he claimed were pre–owned Ollivander wands. "Ours are better," quipped George.

When they got to Gringotts Ginny and Dean waited just inside the brass-plated doors while Fred went to find Bill. Ginny looked at Dean, who smiled at her, and she smiled back. "So, been doing much this summer?" she asked.

"No, not really. My parents are freaked about what happened at school." He grimaced. "Actually, I'm not supposed to be here. But they're both at work, so I'm cool as long as I get home before they do."

"But you're seventeen," Ginny said. "You can do whatever you want, can't you?"

"Well, yeah, but I don't really want to upset them. They could still decide not to let me go back to Hogwarts." He looked questioningly at her. "You're going back, aren't you?"

"Absolutely," said Ginny firmly. "And my folks want me to."

They were interrupted by the arrival of Fred with Bill in tow. Bill gave Ginny a hug while Dean stared at his scarred face. Bill noticed, and reached out to shake his hand.

"Dean, isn't it?" he smiled. "We didn't really meet last spring. Don't worry about this," he touched one of the scars on his cheek, "I know it's kind of ugly, but actually it lets me blend in better in this place." He laughed and waved his hand at the goblins sitting behind their desks and counters.

"Sorry," Dean mumbled. "I didn't mean to stare."

"No problem," Bill assured him. He turned to Ginny. "I got the okay to put up a little ward around the steps and along the street in front of the building. It'll last for a couple of hours, and no one should notice it unless they try to Confund it, and then they'll get a little surprise." He grinned. "Okay?" he said to Ginny.

"Sure." She turned to Dean. "I always liked wizard watching."

They went outside again, and Fred left, saying he would return in a couple of hours. Ginny and Dean sat on a wooden bench next to the building. For a few minutes they watched in silence the parade of witches and wizards passing by. Finally Dean spoke. "So, how's — how's everybody? Seen many people this summer?"

Ginny turned to him and put her hand on his arm. "Dean, look, I like meeting you, I have a good time when I'm with you. But, I'm sorry if you're expecting something else to happen today."

He nodded. "I didn't really, but maybe when we went out together it meant more to me than to you. That's okay," he added, taking her hand. "I just wanted to make sure."

They looked at each other and then they both laughed at the same time. After a moment Dean said, "It's Harry, isn't it?"

Ginny looked up and down the street; no one was near them. "Dean, listen," she said in a low voice, "I don't think we should talk about him here. But, yes, that's it."

Dean nodded again, but immediately changed the subject, asking how she had done on her O.. They also talked about next year's Quidditch team — Gryffindor should have by far the best team — and other topics about the upcoming school year. The time passed quickly, and soon Fred was back, this time with George.

"Okay, kids," Fred announced as George went inside Gringotts to tell Bill that they were back, "let's head on over to Twillfit's. I happen to know, courtesy of a certain brother in Romania, that they just got in a new shipment of the latest styles in dragon–hide footwear."

They strolled back down Diagon Alley, and as they passed a street vendor hawking jewelry Ginny stopped. Prominently displayed on a rack was a hair clasp in the shape of a golden lion, glowing softly in the sunlight. Dean noticed what she was looking at.

"Do you like it?" he asked, taking it from its display and holding it against her hair. "It would look great on you, especially during a Quidditch match. It would keep your hair out of your face."

Ginny clipped it into her hair and shook her head so that the clasp twirled around. "It feels good," she said, and looked at the twins.

"It's gorgeous," they said in unison. "Buy it."

The vendor, an old witch in threadbare robes, came around her cart and cackled. "It's perfect for a pretty redhead, and guaranteed not to contain any magic." She peered at Fred and George. "I know you two, you opened up that joke store over there. Bless you," she croaked, stroking George's arm. "If it wasn't for you this street would be dead." She looked at Ginny. "Your sister, isn't she?"

"That's right," said George, passing his wand over the clasp. "It's okay," he pronounced. "How much?"

Dean interrupted. "Oh, no, I'm buying. Quidditch teammate, after all."

"Dean, no," Ginny protested.

"It's fine, Ginny," Dean said. He leaned toward her and whispered in her ear, "A thank you gift for some good times."

But Ginny shook her head. "Dean, I appreciate it, I really do, but if you buy it I won't wear it. I can't wear it."

"'Well, okay," he relented. "I guess I understand. It still looks great on you." He touched the lion, and then let his hand slide quickly down her hair. Ginny was momentarily annoyed, but she saw in his face that it was meant as a goodbye gesture. She squeezed his hand and they smiled at each other.

George paid the witch, who curtseyed as they walked away. Ginny held her head up, thinking that out of the corner of someone's eye, the golden lion might look a little like the Golden Snitch flashing in the sunlight. She smiled to herself.

A few yards down the street was Twillfit and Tatting's. They all went inside, and when they emerged half an hour later, Ginny was clutching a pair of boots to her bosom.

"They're just beautiful," she gushed to her brothers. "I never had anything like them! I wish we could have the wedding again, they would have been perfect with my dress." She held the boots up as they walked. They were a deep, velvety black, and shimmered in the light with overtones of red, brown, yellow, and green. She hugged them again and laughed. Fred and George looked at each other and grinned.

They reached the front of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, and Dean stopped. "I better be heading on home," he said. "My mum's getting back soon."

"'Bye, Dean," said Ginny. "I'm really glad you came." She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and watched for a moment as he walked toward the Leaky Cauldron.

Back inside the shop, Ginny put on her new boots and packed the items she had picked out from the store — including two Pygmy Puffs — into a carton that the twins would bring home later. She and George went into the back room, and in a moment they Apparated in the yard in front of the Burrow. Ginny ran to the door, and as soon as she answered Molly's question about Rufus Scrimgeour, she burst inside, sat down in a chair next to the fireplace, and put her feet in the air so that Molly and Tonks could admire the boots.

"Bye, Ginny," George said from the door. "Glad you had a good time. See you later, Mum, Tonks." He Disapparated with the usual pop.

"They're so comfortable!" Ginny exclaimed. "They feel so good! No need to break them in, and they're completely waterproof."

"They're beautiful," Tonks said admiringly; she took one off Ginny's foot and felt the supple dragon–hide. "And what's this?" Tonks held up the clasp in Ginny's hair.

"Oh, it's just something to keep my hair out of the way in Quidditch," she said.

"It's very handsome," her mother declared.

Ginny looked around. "Mum, do you know where Errol is?"

"I think he's in a tree out back, dear." Ginny stood up and moved toward the door.

"I'll go out with you, Ginny," said Tonks. "I have to be running along. 'Bye, Molly. Thanks for the pie."

Ginny and Tonks walked outside. Ginny started around the side of the house, and looked at Tonks in surprise as the Auror followed. "I thought you were leaving," Ginny said.

"I am," Tonks replied, "but I thought it would be nice to take a little walk first."

Ginny gave her a skeptical glance. "Did you want to ask me something?"

Tonks smiled. "Oh, look." She pointed to a small fruit tree just outside the garden fence. "There's Errol."

Ginny stopped and faced her. "Come on, Nymphadora, what is it?"

Tonks laughed. "Your mum told me you were meeting Dean Thomas in town. I was just wondering..." She looked directly at Ginny. "Giving up on Harry already?"

Ginny looked at her for a moment, and then continued walking toward the tree. "Errol," she called, "I have a job for you." The owl, who had been watching them approach, gave a loud hoot and fluttered down to land on Ginny's outstretched arm. "You need to take a parchment to Hermione Granger," Ginny continued, "so that she knows I saw Dean today. She'll be interested in that."

She looked sideways at Tonks, who had doubled over laughing. "Ginny Weasley," she spluttered, "you are good! Harry Potter doesn't stand a chance." She hugged Ginny, causing Errol to squawk and jump up onto Tonks's head, which made Tonks laugh even louder. She reached up, took the owl in both hands, and gave him back to Ginny.

"Ciao, Ginny," she said, still chuckling, "see you around." She stepped back and vanished with a pop. Ginny took Errol back inside the Burrow, and in a few minutes he was on his way with the message for Hermione.


	4. Firebolt

**Chapter Four**

**Firebolt**

The next morning Ginny awoke and saw that yesterday's sunny day would not be repeated. It was completely overcast, and when she got out of bed and went to the window she saw that the dementors mist had returned. The gray world outside looked dismal and foreboding. When she turned from the window there was not even the hint of her shadow on the wall.

She heard voices downstairs and her heart jumped. One of them sounded like Harry's. She sat back down on the bed for a moment, trying to calm herself. She took a few deep breaths, and started dressing. She put on one of her better pairs of jeans and the only blouse she had that was not patched, and she combed her hair a few more times than usual. When she opened the door she heard Ron; he was talking loudly, almost angrily. The response came from Harry, and Ginny thought he sounded dispirited. She made as much noise as possible coming down the stairs, and when she appeared in the kitchen, Harry, Ron, and Hermione all looked up at her from the table.

Ron and Hermione were facing Ginny. Harry was sitting across from them, and as Ginny came into the room Harry turned back to the table, but in the brief moment that he looked at her, Ginny received a shock. His face was haggard, and he had almost a frightened expression. She stared at the back of his head, biting her lip; when she sat down next to him she did not look at him.

Ron had been slumped in his chair, but he straightened up. "Hey, Ginny," he said brightly, "how are things? I heard you got some new boots yester— Ow!"

There was an unmistakable sound of a shin being kicked. Hermione glared at Ron. "What he means is that we all need to get to Diagon Alley soon for our school supplies," she growled.

Harry abruptly stood up. "I need to sleep," he muttered, and before anyone could speak he turned and was on his way up the stairs, taking the steps two at a time, leaving the others staring up after him.

"What's going on," Ginny said anxiously. "Is he okay?"

Ron rubbed his shin and glanced at Hermione, who looked very tired. "We've been up two nights in a row," he said. "Things haven't been going well. Harry's having trouble doing stuff."

"What do you mean, stuff?" Ginny did not like the sound of that.

Ron glanced at Hermione again. "His spells don't work all the time," he said. "The simple ones do, but if he tries something like a hex from the half–blood prince, he's lucky if it just doesn't do anything." He shook his head. Ginny stared in disbelief.

"He's been hurt by his own magic," Hermione said into the silence. "He says he's just tired, but something else is happening." She turned to Ron. "Why won't you admit it?" she demanded. "It's exactly what Dumbledore talked about, and you know it."

"But he _is_ tired," Ron insisted. "I know I am. Look," he said, standing up, "maybe you're right, but if we push him he's liable to do something really stupid. I don't know," he shrugged. "Maybe you two can think of something." He paused at the foot of the stairs and turned to Ginny. "Sis, I've never said anything like this to you before, but he's my best mate and he needs you. We all need you, but we don't know how to make it happen." He ignored Ginny's astonishment. "You two talk, I'm going to bed."

Hermione looked at the bemused expression on Ginny's face and gave a tired smile. "Well?"

"I'm speechless," Ginny marveled. "Ron's been such a prat for so long. What's gotten into him?" She gave Hermione an appraising look. "It's you, isn't it? You're domesticating him."

Hermione sat back and laughed. "Oh, Ginny," she said when she stopped, "thank you for that. I haven't laughed in weeks." She turned sober suddenly and stood up. "Upstairs?"

Ginny led the way into her room, Hermione lugging her backpack, which she tossed into a corner. They sat cross-legged on the bed facing each other, and Ginny handed one of her new boots to Hermione. "These are beautiful!" Hermione admired. "They must have cost a fortune."

"Well, there was a very short moment when I thought it was too much." They both laughed. "Fred said I shouldn't worry about it. Actually, he said it was none of my business."

Hermione examined the boot, turning it over, smelling and caressing the soft dragon–hide. "You deserve it." She handed it back and sighed. "I didn't show him your owl. He wanted to know what it said, of course, so I told him it was a message for me, but that everything was fine at the Burrow. I know he avoided you earlier this summer, but Ginny, he's always asking indirect questions or making indirect comments about you."

"Like what?"

"Oh, like, 'If I don't go back to school, thank goodness we have the best Chaser.' Or, 'What will the Weasleys do when their kids are all out of school?'"

"Oh," Ginny said quietly. Feelings came up that she did not want to count on, so she put them into the back of her mind and made her thoughts go in a different direction. "What's happening with his magic?" she asked.

Hermione frowned. "It's like Ron said. If he tries a difficult spell it just doesn't work. Nothing happens." She hesitated. "We — we were looking for something," she lowered her voice. "I can't tell you what. Harry made us promise not to tell anyone."

Ginny scowled and Hermione took her hand. "I know it's not right," she said, "but Professor Dumbledore made _him_ promise to tell only me and Ron. I can't tell anyone unless Harry says it's okay."

Ginny shrugged. "He never told me a lot of things last year, but everything else was great between us, so I didn't want to push him. But I did feel left out."

She leaned back against the headboard and looked at the window and the misty, overcast sky. "So what happened when you were looking for this ... whatever?"

"One day we were talking about the thing we were looking for," Hermione went on, "and someone was nearby, someone Harry had a bad feeling about. So he tried the Muffliato jinx, but it didn't work." She grimaced. "Harry was right about his bad feeling though. Ron had to Stupefy the bloke so we could get away. But we don't know what he overheard."

Ginny had a sickening feeling. "That can't be." She shook her head. "Why is it happening?"

Hermione leaned forward. "Do you remember what happened to Tonks last year? She was losing her Patronus and was having problems with her metamorphagus powers. She was depressed about Remus. He didn't want her to love him. And there's more. Harry told us something that Dumbledore told him about Voldemort."

"If that's a secret, too, then why are you telling me?" Ginny felt a little petulant.

"I think it's okay because it doesn't concern what we're looking for. Besides, it also relates to Harry's problem and you," she added with a little smile. "If my theory is correct."

"And your theory is...?"

"Let me tell you about Voldemort first. What Dumbledore told Harry is that Voldemort's mother —"

"He had a mother?" exclaimed Ginny, and laughed. "Of course he must have, but it's impossible to imagine."

"I agree with that," Hermione said, "but I wonder if she was any better than he is. She used a love potion to seduce his father, and when she stopped giving it to him he left her. She was pregnant and became totally depressed, and she couldn't do any magic."

"She couldn't do any magic," Ginny repeated, and was silent for a moment. Then she nodded. "And that's why Harry can't."

"Yes, that's my theory. It seems that if a wizard or a witch has a big problem with someone they love, then it affects their magic."

Ginny got off the bed and walked to the window and looked out. "But Harry's problem isn't that I don't love him," she said in a puzzled voice with her back to Hermione. "It's that he won't _let_ me love him."

"Exactly!" Hermione exclaimed. "He thinks he's sacrificing his feelings to protect you. But no matter how hard he tries, he can't stop the feelings. So he's actually the one who's causing his own problem, not someone else. That makes it a little different from Tonks or Voldemort's mother. But it also makes it easier to fix. He doesn't have to get someone to love him who doesn't want to."

Ginny faced Hermione; there were tears in her eyes. "So the owl I sent yesterday was the worst thing I could possibly do," she said in a quavering voice.

"But he didn't see it! I did show it to Ron, which maybe was a mistake," she admitted. "I had to kick him under the table to shut him up."

Ginny grinned and sat back down on the bed. "And what about you and Ron?" she said coyly. "His behavior is very un–Ron–like. How did you turn him into a human being?"

"It wasn't so hard," Hermione laughed. "If I ignore him for five minutes he thinks he's done something wrong, which usually he has." They both laughed.

After a moment Hermione continued more seriously. "But he is a rock for Harry. He's really worried about him, Ginny, and so am I."

They were silent, each thinking her own thoughts. Finally, Ginny got up. "I'm starving," she said. "I haven't had breakfast. I was thinking," she added, "maybe we could play some Quidditch later, like we did last summer. He loves it so much, maybe it would cheer him up."

"That's a good idea!" Hermione said enthusiastically. "But I think tomorrow would be better. We're all exhausted."

Ginny brightened. "Good," she said, "at least you'll be around for another day. It's been way too quiet here, at least for me."

She left Hermione, who wanted to sleep, and went downstairs where her mother was busy with breakfast. Ginny ate, and spent the rest of the day by herself. Hermione, Ron, and Harry slept until late afternoon, when Mrs. Weasley insisted that they all have dinner together.

Harry seemed to be in a better mood during the meal, and he also looked much less haggard. When Ginny suggested a game of two–man Quidditch in the morning, he showed some interest for the first time since the trio's return. Later in the evening he joined the conversation about Gryffindor's team for the upcoming year, and what the competition would be like, especially if some key players for other Houses did not return to school.

"We know Malfoy won't be back," said Ron, "so we can count out Slytherin."

"Yeah," agreed Harry, "but I never lost to them in six years, anyway. Who do you think the new Ravenclaw seeker will be? Cho's gone." Ginny glanced at him as he spoke Cho Chang's name, but there was obviously nothing there except his weighing the impact of Cho's absence on her old Quidditch team.

"Dunno," answered Ron, pondering the question. "Maybe that fourth–year who played Chaser against us. He had some kind of French–sounding name, what was it?"

The conversation continued for another half hour. Ginny finally lost track of it in her drowsiness, and announced that she was going to bed. "You'll sleep in my room, won't you?" she asked Hermione.

"Of course. I'll be up in a bit."

"Good night, Ginny," Harry said.

"Oh, good night, Harry." Ginny was startled. She smiled at him and he gave a small wave and a quick smile back.

When Ginny got to her room her heart was beating a little faster than it usually did after she had climbed the narrow flight of stairs. She went to bed and quickly fell asleep, feeling better than she had all summer.

The next morning, although the day promised to be another gray one, Ginny bounced out of bed, dressed, and hurried downstairs. She was the last one to the breakfast table. Her father had not left for the Ministry yet, and he was speaking with Harry in a low voice when Ginny sat down. They stopped talking and both looked at her. Harry gave her another quick smile and a nod, and then started in on the pile of sausages in front of him. Hermione and Ron were also busy eating. Soon Mr. Weasley got up.

"Time to be off," he said, kissing Molly on the cheek. "Have a good game, everyone, and be careful." He waved goodbye and stepped outside. In a moment he Disapparated and was gone.

Harry was still in a good mood, although he did not talk to Ginny. He had brought his Firebolt downstairs, and immediately after breakfast the others got brooms from the old broom shed and they were all off to the clearing down the lane where the Weasleys had always played Quidditch. As they walked through the mist, Hermione took Ron's arm and moved ahead of Ginny and Harry. Ginny slowed her pace slightly, and soon she and Harry were several yards behind and out of earshot.

"So," she said as casually as she could, "how are things?"

"Okay, I guess," said Harry, "except for the weather. I can't stand this damp stuff."

"No, it's not very pleasant."

"It's been like this all year." Harry glanced at the sky. "I guess it'll be pretty cold again this winter."

"At least I won't have any problem keeping my feet warm now," Ginny said, taking the opportunity to change the topic from the weather.

"Yeah!" Harry said over–enthusiastically. "I heard about your new boots. That was really nice of Fred and George to buy them for you. I'd like to see them."

"Oh, sure," Ginny said. "I'll show them to you when we get back. I got them at Twilfit's. How do you like my hair clip?" She decided to see what might happen if she pushed the conversation a little. "It's a lion, and I got it from a street vendor."

"It looks good," Harry said as she turned her head. "Maybe it'll reflect the sun like the Snitch and confuse the opposition." He laughed.

"I also got two more Pygmy Puffs at the Wheezes," Ginny said, encouraged by his reaction.

Harry laughed again. "You always liked those things, didn't you? They're kind of cute."

They walked on. Ginny's mind was in a turmoil. Did that remark mean anything? Was it just small talk, or did he blurt it out without thinking? Did it convey anything at all about his feelings? Then Harry spoke again.

"So you were in Diagon Alley. Did you go anywhere else?"

"No," Ginny answered distractedly, still pondering the implications of "cute." "We just sat around talking for a while." She flushed, and snapped her mouth shut, wishing she could have those words back.

"Oh, you mean with Fred and George?" Harry asked uncertainly.

"No, I met Dean there." Ginny again tried to sound casual, but she was even less sure this time that she had pulled it off. "We just talked for a while, then he went home."

"Oh." Harry started to walk faster. Ginny caught up to him and put her hand on his shoulder. He didn't stop or turn to look at her. "Harry," she said to his back as they entered the clearing, where Ron and Hermione were already in the air. "He's just a friend, a — a teammate."

Harry stopped and faced her. "I know," he said, but there was a hurt in his eyes. "It's okay, Ginny, it really is. We're not going together anymore. You can do whatever you want." He mounted his broom, and still looking at her, kicked off hard and soared into the air.

Ginny stood there, feeling a combination of dismay and anger. "What's wrong with you?" she thought, watching Harry streak above the treetops, and then she shouted, "Why are boys so stupid!"

Hermione landed next to her. "What happened?" She looked up at Harry who was now flying erratically around the clearing, narrowly missing branches and ignoring Ron's calls. "What is he trying to do, kill himself?" she exclaimed.

Ginny was also watching Harry, and she swore through gritted teeth. "I said something stupid. I mentioned Dean. Harry basically told me to get lost, and then he took off." She indicated the gray sky with a nod.

Suddenly she cried out, "Oh, Merlin, what's wrong? Harry! Look out!"

Hermione followed her alarmed gaze, and gasped and put her hand to her mouth. Harry was careening from side to side and up and down; he seemed to have no control of his Firebolt. Ron was near him, trying to stay out of his way and slow him down at the same time. Harry went into a steep dive, and the girls could see his face clearly. It was frozen in terror, even as he tried to get control of his broomstick. Ron streaked after him, shouting, "Pull up! Pull up!"

Ginny and Hermione reacted at the same time. They pulled their wands out, but by then Harry was only a few yards from the ground. At the last instant he lifted the front of his broomstick, but he hit the ground hard and went face–first into the grass. They rushed over as Ron landed next to him.

Harry got to his hands and knees. His face was scratched and his glasses were smashed; his jeans were ripped at both knees, which were oozing blood, as were his elbows. His breath had been knocked out, and he was gasping and heaving. Ron put his arm around him. "Harry, are you okay?" he asked fearfully.

Harry coughed and spat out a tooth. "I – I think," he coughed again. "Just — breath knocked out." Hermione lifted his glasses off and touched them with her wand, silently repairing them. Harry started to stand, and Ron helped him steady himself. Harry looked around, dazed. "What happened?" he said. "Where's my broom?"

Ginny had picked up the Firebolt. She handed it to him apprehensively. "Is it okay?" he asked. He put his glasses on and looked at it. "Sirius gave it to me," he mumbled. He swayed and Ron grabbed his arm.

"I think it'll be fine," Ginny answered. She was having trouble keeping her voice steady; she had never heard Harry talk like this. "Maybe the handle's a little scratched, but..." She looked at Ron and Hermione, and they all felt the question hanging in the air.

"It's fine," Harry said angrily. "It's not the broom. I — I don't know what it was, but it's not the broom!"

In the silence that surrounded them, Ron put his arm around Harry's waist. "Come on, mate," he said, "let's go back and let my mum take a look at you. She'll be able to fix you up." He glanced at Ginny and Hermione; he looked almost as terrified as Harry had.

Hermione started to follow, but Ginny caught her elbow and held her back until Ron and Harry had gone ahead. "Is that what I think it was?" she asked Hermione.

Hermione nodded glumly. "It looks like. He couldn't make his broomstick do what he wanted, just like he can't make his spells do what he wants."

Ginny bowed her head for a moment, then looked up and laughed mirthlessly. "It's stupid, but the only thing I can think of right now is how is he going to play Quidditch?"

Hermione looked at her helplessly. She took Ginny's arm, and they followed Ron and Harry back to the Burrow.


	5. Hogwarts United

**Chapter Five**

**Hogwarts United**

Ginny and Hermione hurried after Harry and Ron, but they were still a few yards from the door as the boys entered the Burrow. From the yard they heard Mrs. Weasley's shriek of dismay, accompanied by the loud clatter of pots hitting the floor. Inside the kitchen, they found Harry already sitting at the table with Molly hovering over him.

"What on earth happened?" she cried as she wiped Harry's face with the hem of her apron. "Was there an attack? Was anyone else hurt?" She spun around to look at the girls.

"We're all okay, Mum," Ron assured her. "Harry, um, had a problem with his broom." He looked at Harry, who was swaying in his chair and staring blankly at the tabletop. "He didn't break anything, did he?"

"I don't know, I don't know," Molly said anxiously, and ran her hands over Harry's face, then his arms.

"Glasses broke," Harry mumbled; he was barely coherent. "Some teeth loose. Lost one when I hit." He looked at the floor. "Don't see it. Can you fix them?" He opened his mouth and wiggled a front tooth with his tongue. As the others leaned forward to see, he glanced at Ginny, who quickly averted her eyes and stepped back.

Mrs. Weasley scurried to a cabinet and started taking out bottles of variously colored potions. "Ginny, help me with these," she said. Ginny brought an armful of bottles back to the table and sat down across from Harry.

Molly took her wand out. "Loose teeth are no problem. Wait a minute," she muttered, "I want to get this right. One is for making teeth fall out, but there's another one for tightening them up." She thought for a moment. "Yes, this is the one. Open up." She touched the loose tooth with her wand. "Is that better, dear?"

"Yeth," he said; her wand was still in his mouth."Thankth. There'th another one here." He pointed to a second tooth.

Ginny watched as her mother attended to Harry. Ron and Hermione stood next to him, pouring potions into small bowls at Molly's direction, and holding them as she dabbed at Harry's wounds. She was cleaning a scratch on Harry's forehead that almost reached his scar, when Ginny stood up. "I'll be in the parlor if you need me, Mum."

Harry looked at her, and she froze. For a long moment their eyes locked. Then Ginny broke away, overcome by what she saw there. She bolted out of the kitchen and into the parlor and collapsed into a chair in front of the fireplace.

She closed her eyes and in her mind she saw Harry's; they were full of despair and fear. She felt fear herself, and also pity and longing. She wanted to touch him, to hold his despair and fear in her arms. Her own fear was for him, for his very existence. She knew that in his current state he would never survive a confrontation with any Dark wizard, and she pitied his inability to understand why it was happening to him. But the question now was not how to help him, but how to keep him alive.

She heard footsteps and quickly wiped the tears from her face. Hermione came into the room and stood next to the chair. "Your mum wants him to rest," she said. "Ron went upstairs with him." They both stared into the cold fireplace; it seemed as though the chill mist from outside had penetrated the warm comfort of the Burrow. Ginny shuddered.

"Hermione," she whispered, afraid to speak her fear. "He's in danger. He has to go back to Hogwarts. He needs to be someplace where he can figure things out, try to get his powers back. He has to go back to Hogwarts," she repeated.

Hermione nodded. "I know, that's exactly what I was thinking. It's probably the safest place in Britain, even without Dumbledore. I mean, Professor McGonagall is no slouch. And Madam Pomfrey can take care of him." She looked uncertainly at Ginny. "But when school starts, it's going to be as hard on you as it is on Harry."

"Yes," Ginny said miserably, and put her hand over her eyes, "it will." She looked up and smiled wanly. "You and Ron will have to be the ones looking out for him."

By late afternoon all the arrangements were made. Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks would come to the Burrow and Portkey with Harry, Ron, and Hermione into Hogwarts. Ginny would take the trio's trunks and other belongings with her on the Hogwarts Express. The twins would buy their textbooks and supplies in Diagon Alley for Ginny to bring.

By the time dusk fell, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were gone.

Next morning the Burrow was desolate and empty. Ginny tried watching the sunrise from her window, but she had awoken with a knot in her stomach, and when she was sitting still it was all she could think of. So she went downstairs and spent the slow hours of the day trying to get her things ready for school. But she could not concentrate. She found herself alone in her room again, pacing between the bed and the window, peering out at the tendrils of mist that were becoming ever thicker.

The following morning her stomach felt better, but she awoke hours before dawn and could not fall back to sleep. She sat at the window for several hours, watching the sky lighten in the east, then brighten as the sun slowly rose and her shadow climbed down the wall. The sun shone golden under the cloud cover and through the mist, and she thought that the day might have some cheer to it. But soon the sun disappeared behind the overcast, and gloom settled over the countryside and darkness and doubt settled in Ginny's heart.

She was no longer looking forward to school. At the beginning of the summer holiday she felt that she still had a connection with Harry, despite what he had said after the funeral. Her father's explanation of the mermaid and the centaurs' behavior had strengthened her certainty. Harry's rescue of her from the train, and his obvious pain at walking away again, confirmed his feelings for her, at least in her own mind. But had she deceived herself? Had everything changed? Now Harry could not "save the wizarding world" because he might not be able to save himself. Ginny did not know how she could face him if he lost that dream — if dream it was — or how she could be near him every day, knowing he was in such torment but not able to help him. The look in his eyes had been worse than a scream, but Harry Potter was the last person in the world who would ever ask for help.

Early in the afternoon of the day before the trip to King's Cross Station, Ginny walked into the kitchen. Her mother was organizing textbooks into four piles.

"Are you ready for lunch, dear," Molly asked, distributing copies of i_Transfiguration In the Real World_/i to Ron's, Harry's, and Hermione's stacks.

"I'm not hungry, Mum." Ginny yawned. She slumped into a chair and half–heartedly glanced at the book titles in her stack. She pushed them away, looking glum.

Molly stopped organizing and sat down next to her. "Do you want to talk?"

Ginny sighed and looked at the Weasley family clock sitting amidst a heap of vegetables next to the sink; all the hands still pointed to Mortal Peril. "We should get a hand for Harry," she said. "He's like one of the family now. In mortal peril." She sighed again, but this time to hide the catch in her voice.

"Ginny." Her mother took her hand in both of hers. "What happened to him? I never asked because he was so upset that day, and you have been so wretched ever since. Why did he fall?"

Ginny hesitated; she was not sure if it was right to tell anyone about Harry's problem with his magic. But then she remembered the conversation between Remus and Tonks in the hospital wing the night Dumbledore died. Her mother and father had scolded Remus for pushing Tonks away.

"He's losing his powers, Mum," she said quietly; even in the safety of the Burrow she feared unfriendly ears. "He couldn't control the broomstick. And Hermione told me that over the summer he had trouble getting spells to work." She looked anxiously at her mother. To her surprise, Molly was not alarmed or even upset.

"That was predictable," Molly said matter–of–factly. "Your father and I talked about it after the accident. I was certain that's what happened."

"How can you be so unconcerned?" Ginny was upset even if her mother wasn't. "What if he meets a Death Eater? He'll die!"

"He won't if he's at Hogwarts," Molly replied. "So it's up to you and Ron and Hermione to make sure he stays there. And think about what happened to Nymphadora only a day or two after she and Remus made up. Do you remember what she looked like at Professor Dumbledore's funeral?"

Ginny nodded. "She was her flaming old self again."

"That's what will happen to Harry when he stops fighting his feelings," Molly declared. "He'll be his flaming old self again. The only question is, how to make him come to his senses."

"That's a big question," Ginny humphed.

Molly sat pensively for a moment. "But he _iis/I_ aware of his feelings, very much so," she said with certainty. "He knows what his feelings are. It will be easier to get him to stop fighting them than it would be to acknowledge them in the first place. He has a wrong–headed idea of how to treat you, but if he didn't love you, his magic would not be disappearing."

Ginny took a long time to respond while she considered these words. "It makes sense," she finally said, "but I'm afraid something bad will happen before anyone can get through to him."

"That's why his friends have to look out for him."

Ginny leaned forward and pushed the piles of textbooks away. "You know what, Mum? I'm hungry."

Molly laughed and got up. In a few minutes the potatoes, carrots, turnips, onions, cabbage, and tomatoes were washed, peeled, sliced, and bubbling in a crock–pot. She and Ginny ate vegetable soup together, talking about nothing in particular. When Ginny was finished, she went upstairs and began packing. Her heart was not light, but at least she now knew what she had to do, even if the way to do it, like the countryside hidden in mist, was not clear.

The next morning the taxi arrived to take Ginny and her parents to King's Cross Station. Mrs. Weasley was nervous about the trip, and the difficulty she had met trying to find a cab had only made her state of mind worse. The problem, of course, was the Weasley family's — or more specifically, the Weasley twins' — reputation with the local cab company, a result of the incident of three years ago involving exploding firecrackers. Memories apparently lingered in the Devonshire countryside.

Molly eventually found a taxi in a nearby town, and her concerns about security were eased at the last minute when Tonks Apparated in front of the cab — to the amazement of the driver — and announced that she would accompany them. She rode in the front seat, and spent the entire trip flirting with the man, a young Muggle with a wide variety of interests, stage magic being one of them. They had plenty to talk about, so he didn't mind the pile of strange luggage, which included two owls and a cage of pink Pygmy Puffs. And he either did not notice or did not care about Tonks's unusual and changing appearance. The cab arrived safely at the station. The driver helped them unload and drove happily away.

Platform Nine and Three Quarters was much quieter than it usually was the morning of September 1. There were fewer students and families, and more Aurors. Arthur, Molly, and Tonks bade Ginny goodbye, and the train departed. Ginny shared a compartment with Luna and Neville, swapping stories about their summer holidays. Ginny left out Harry's misadventures, but proudly showed off her new dragon–hide boots. After an hour or so of conversation they grew silent. Luna began to read the latest _iQuibbler_/i, Neville became preoccupied with a new magical plant he had brought with him, and Ginny grew lost in thoughts and anxieties about what she would find at Hogwarts.

The Express sped on into the foggy night and arrived at Hogsmeade Station without incident. As Ginny got off, she saw many Aurors huddled near the engine; they all had broomsticks and they all wore heavy cloaks. She realized that they had been escorting the train.

She moved with Luna and Neville to the row of horseless carriages waiting in the lane. To her shock, instead of empty traces, Ginny saw thestrals standing in their harnesses, a macabre and spectral sight. For a moment she did not understand, but then remembered the Death Eater who had died in the battle last spring, hit by a ricocheting Killing Curse. She climbed into the carriage feeling even more unsettled and nervous about what lay ahead.

As they drew near the castle, Ginny could not see anything unusual about it; it was as lit up as ever, candles and lamps glowed in most of the windows. Gryffindor Tower was actually ablaze with lights. But as the students entered the Great Hall and filed to their House tables, it became quickly obvious that much would be different this year. Only the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff tables were more than half–full. The Ravenclaw table had about a third of its seats taken, and only a dozen students sat down at the Slytherin table.

Ginny looked for her friends as she entered the Hall, and she spotted Ron and Hermione, but not Harry, at the Gryffindor table. She hurried over and hugged Hermione. To her happy surprise, Ron also hugged her and held her for a moment. "Is everything okay at home?" he asked.

Ginny nodded and sat down next to him. She looked at both of them, afraid to ask.

"He's much better," Hermione said, leaning across Ron and taking Ginny's hand. "But he didn't come to the Feast. He said he wanted to talk to you first." She looked at Ginny with a half–smile.

"Well, that's interesting," said Ginny. She lowered her voice. "But his magic? What about that?"

But before Hermione could answer, Ron, who had been facing Ginny and the entrance, gave a start. "Oh my God!" he exclaimed, staring at what was coming through the doors.

The entire Great Hall fell into shocked silence. Professor Flitwick was leading the new first–years up the aisle; there were only eight of them. They huddled together in a frightened knot, keeping as close to the Professor as they could. Since he was at least a head shorter than all of them, it was a strange as well as disturbing sight. "So few," Hermione murmured.

The Sorting ceremony did not take long. Except for the House assignments, the Sorting Hat had nothing to say, which somehow made Ginny depressed. Three of the new students were Sorted to Hufflepuff, two each to Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, and one to Slytherin. Unfortunately for that student, she was also the last one to be Sorted and the girl had to walk in tears to the Slytherin table with all eyes on her. She was greeted with stony stares from her new Housemates.

"That's terrible," Hermione said, watching the small girl sitting with her head bowed and her whole body shaking. "No one deserves that." Ron looked in silence, and Ginny observed that where in the past he would have said something rude, now he just looked and said nothing.

The Feast passed in relative quiet. Conversations were muted; everyone seemed uncertain about what would happen next. When Professor McGonagall finally stood, there was no need to draw anyone's attention; the entire Hall seemed anxious to hear her say something. A hush fell.

The Headmistress looked around the room; when her eyes passed briefly over Ginny, Ginny saw determination, and she felt heartened. She sat up straight and waited expectantly.

"Welcome to another year at Hogwarts," the Headmistress said loudly and firmly. "We all know that this year will be difficult. No one, least of all I, will ever replace the one who stood in this spot a year ago. But if no one can replace him, every one of us can do the very things that he loved the most, that made this school what it is — teaching and learning. As long as those two activities are happening at Hogwarts, then Albus Dumbledore will not have been defeated."

She paused, and looked around the Hall again. "The responsibility for teaching and learning lies on every person in this room, and I hold each one of you to account for doing whatever your part is, whether it is teaching, learning, or sweeping the floors. I charge each witch and each wizard in this Great Hall to accept this challenge. When you return to your Houses tonight, and tomorrow when you begin classes, and next week when you are studying in your common rooms or in the library, you must remember and think about my challenge. I am not asking you to enjoy your year here. I am asking you to offer up your energies, your minds, your talents, and your spirits as a sacrifice to your own futures and to the future of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

She stopped, and there was dead silence; no one seemed to be breathing. Ginny's eyes were riveted on McGonagall. Then something moved next to her. Ron was pushing back his bench and standing up. He began to clap slowly and loudly. Hermione rose and began clapping. As Ginny joined them, so did the rest of the Gryffindor table and then the other Houses. Even the Slytherins were up and applauding, if not quite as enthusiastically.

The applause went on; when it died and everyone sat down, Professor McGonagall continued. "I take that as an acceptance of my challenge and as a salute to yourselves. And I thank you for both." She smiled and seemed to relax.

"I have only one announcement at this time," she went on. "It should be obvious, given the small number of students that are present compared to previous years, that it will be impossible to hold our usual competition for the Quidditch Cup."

Disappointed murmurs passed through the Hall. Ginny looked at Ron; she was sure that the same crestfallen look was on her own face.

"However," McGonagall spoke over the chatter, and the room went quiet, "in its place we have arranged a different kind of Quidditch competition." There was a tantalizing pause; she obviously enjoyed the sense of anticipation that now held her audience. "In its place we will be holding tryouts for an all–Hogwarts Quidditch team. This team will compete in a three–match tournament over the course of the school year with a professional Quidditch club that I am sure some of you are familiar with, the Chudley Cannons."

Ginny was speechless. She looked at Ron; his mouth was hanging open, his eyes looked like they would pop out of his head. Hermione was grinning at him.

The Hall was silent; everyone was as astonished as Ginny. Then a wave of excited conversation swept through each House table. People looked around, pointing and calling to each other. Many craned to see the Gryffindor table, and Ginny was certain that they were searching for Harry, wondering what his reaction was.

Professor McGonagall held her hand up, and once again the Hall fell silent. "That is all I have to say. Go to your Houses and rest well. And remember the challenge!"


	6. A Riddle

**Chapter Six**

**A Riddle**

"I can't believe it!" Ron exclaimed as they walked up the stairs to Gryffindor Tower; he could not contain his excitement. "The Cannons here! At Hogwarts! And I'll get to play against them!" His smile suddenly faded. "If I get picked."

"You're the best Keeper in the school," declared Hermione, speaking over her shoulder as she shepherded the two new first–years along. "They _have_ to pick you."

Ron still looked doubtful. "Maybe, but Ginny's sure to be one of the Chasers." He looked back at her.

But Ginny was only half–listening. She had been thinking about Harry. Harry Potter was the best Quidditch player in the school, and he would have been even if every student had returned. What would everyone think if he didn't make the team because he could no longer fly? What if he didn't even try out? She knew he wouldn't care what people thought, but what would it do to him? How much more depression could he sink into?

Ginny followed the others through the portrait hole, and the instant she entered the common room it was as though all of her cares were blown away on a gust of warm, festive air. It was brightly lit by dozens of candles, and she remembered what it had looked like from outside. The portraits on the walls were chatting with each other and with students. A fire burned cheerfully. Someone was throwing a Fanged Frisbee around the room, and people ducked as it whizzed past. The room was not as crowded as it usually was on the evening after the first Feast, but it was far from quiet. It felt safe and friendly; Ginny smiled broadly as she walked in.

Harry was seated in his usual chair in front of the fire; empty dinner dishes were at his feet. Ron was losing no time telling him the news of the Chudley Cannons and the all–Hogwarts Quidditch team. As Ginny walked toward them, Harry looked up, and she got the distinct impression that he had been waiting for her. Her smile grew wider and she gave him a small wave.

Harry stood up, ignoring Ron, who didn't seem to notice but kept on talking to Hermione, who had sent the two first–years on up to their room. She was also ignoring him and watching Harry.

Harry walked over to Ginny. "Hi," he said. He was relaxed, and she saw nothing in his eyes that was remotely like what had been there that awful morning at the Burrow.

"Hi, Harry," she said. "How are you feeling? Are your teeth okay?" She peered at his mouth.

"They're fine," he laughed, baring his teeth. "Your mum's an excellent Healer." He looked around at the room, and Ginny followed his gaze. Only Hermione and Ron were watching them; Ginny realized that no one else, except maybe Neville and Dean, neither of whom was in sight, would know that she and Harry were not together. Hermione quickly looked away and poked Ron, who gave her an annoyed look but also stopped staring.

"Ginny," Harry said, "can we talk? I need to say something."

Ginny's heart started racing, but she fought down the rush of hope. She did not think it likely that Harry had changed his mind. Nothing had changed concerning his hunt for Voldemort, as far as she knew.

"Um, sure." She tried to keep her voice steady. "Where —?" She looked around. People were starting to drift up to the dormitories, and there were some empty corners that would give them privacy.

"Over there, I think." Harry pointed to two chairs under a window. They walked over and sat down. For a moment Harry sat back and stared at the ceiling. Finally he leaned closer and started to speak, but then he took a sharp breath, as though he had suddenly caught the scent of something on the air. He looked at her with a distant expression. He leaned back again and took another deep breath.

_Too close for comfort,_ thought Ginny, and she decided that she needed to put him at ease. "Harry, it's okay," she lied. "I know you haven't changed your mind. I still don't agree, but it's okay."

For a moment he looked surprised, then relieved. "I knew you'd understand. But I still wanted to say that I know I hurt your feelings last spring, and I feel bad about it. It was partly my fault that your feet got messed up. I'm sorry."

"I appreciate that," Ginny murmured, "but it wasn't your fault." There was another silence. "Did Ron tell you about the Chudley Cannons?" Ginny asked. "That's brilliant news, isn't it?"

"Well, yes," Harry agreed, and for a moment Ginny was afraid that she had opened up a wound too soon. But Harry continued. "I did do a bit of flying with Ron, and it went okay. At least I didn't lose any more teeth." They both smiled, and for an instant Ginny felt something in the air between them that had not been there since Professor Dumbledore's funeral. She hoped that her face didn't give her feelings away.

"Actually," Harry went on, "I wanted to make another apology."

"For what?"

"For how I acted at the Burrow all summer. I was rude, especially what I said right before I crashed. And right after, too."

"There's nothing going on between me and Dean, Harry. And I was just glad you weren't hurt worse than you were." Ginny was miffed. Harry was acting as though the only thing that had ever gone on between them was a moment or two of impoliteness. If she wanted to "get through to him," as Hermione and her mum put it, she had to say the things that he had not let her say after the funeral. This evening he had waited for her to come back from dinner and had asked to talk to her in private. She had a right to bring up whatever subject she wanted, especially this one.

"Harry," she began, "we have to talk. You walked away without letting me say anything, but there are things I need to say. Too much happened between us. I can't just let it all sit there."

He leaned toward her. "I really am sorry, Ginny," he said in a low voice. "When I said it wasn't easy, I meant it. But don't you see now why I can't be with you? There's no way you could have come with us when we went away this summer." He paused, looked away for a moment, and took a deep breath. "When I'm near you, I have trouble concentrating. You distract me, even when I'm doing something as ordinary as... as eating. What would happen if I felt that way when something really dangerous was going on?"

This statement took Ginny aback. But his look seemed to be pleading with her not to take advantage of it. Her instinct told her to be careful. "Did you ever figure out what happened to you in the clearing?" she asked.

"No," he admitted, "but it had nothing to do with you."

"How do you know that?" she demanded. "How do you know it isn't because you're pushing people away? It's happened to others, you know."

"I'm not pushing you away. I'm keeping you from being used against me. When they attacked the train it wasn't an attack on me, but they saw a chance to get at me through you and it almost worked. We were lucky, that's all."

Ginny shook her head. "No, it wasn't luck. It was you. You didn't save the wizarding world, but you did save me." Harry looked away again.

Ginny also glanced around and saw Hermione duck her head and turn back to Ron. "We'd better be careful," Ginny said, "or we'll give people the wrong impression."

Harry smiled. "And what impression is that?"

"You know what I mean. Don't joke about it."

"Sorry, I shouldn't have said it. But why do you care about the impression we give?"

"Touché." Ginny grinned in turn.

Again they sat in silence. Finally Ginny broke it. "Voldemort already knows that we were together. Malfoy knew, so Voldemort knows. And it's unlikely he knows that anything's changed between us."

Harry looked uncomfortable. "You don't know that for sure. Why take a chance?"

"A chance on what?" she exclaimed. "For God's sake, Harry, what would you do, what would you feel like, if he went after my parents or Hagrid or anyone else who is special to you? What makes me so different?"

"You know what makes you different. No." He put his hand up to stop her. "You know how hard it was both times, at the funeral and when the train was attacked. I'm doing what I think is right. I know why you disagree, but it's me he's after, and it's I who have to face him."

"Yes, the prophecy," Ginny said, almost like an accusation, and Harry looked at her in surprise.

"You know about the prophecy?"

"You kept a lot of things from me, and I sort of understand why, but I heard some things and I could figure out some others. I don't know exactly what it said, but what else could it be? I can help you, Harry, you know I can. In lots of ways." Her eyes started to fill with tears, and she did not try to hide them.

Harry gazed at her, and Ginny momentarily saw a look she had often seen last year whenever they were alone together. But he abruptly stood up.

"Well," he said, "I think I'll be going to bed. I — I'll see you around." He walked away before she could say anything, and she stared at his back until he disappeared around the corner of the staircase to the boys dormitories.

"I'm always watching you walk away," she said to herself. She stood and went to the fireplace where Hermione and Ron were sitting, holding hands and talking quietly. Hermione looked up. "Is everything okay?"

"If everything staying the same is okay, then I guess so," Ginny replied. She sat down. "He apologized for what happened at the Burrow."

"That doesn't surprise me," Hermione said. "He thought you were angry with him when you walked out of the kitchen while your mum was fixing him up. I think that's why he skipped the Feast. He wanted to talk before he had to spend any time with you in public, in case you were still mad."

"I wasn't mad about that. He didn't have to miss the Feast. But how has he been? Has he tried to do any magic? He told me he flew."

Ron answered. "Yeah, we went down to the pitch a few times. He asked me to go with him the day after we got here. It wasn't too bad. We didn't try much, or fly too high, but he didn't have any problems with his broom. Maybe something happened that day at the Burrow that got him upset?" He looked questioningly at Ginny.

Ginny gazed into the fire; the flames were starting to die down. She felt tired. "Did Hermione tell you that I saw Dean in Diagon Alley the day before you came?"

"Um, yes. Is that what upset him?"

"I suppose." She frowned. "He was a git about it, and I _was_ angry for a second. But Hermione told me that he had already been losing his powers for a while."

They were all silent. Finally Hermione spoke. "He's better now, but he will never be completely better until he stops pushing you away." She looked unhappily at Ginny. "It's not fair, but it's up to you, Ginny. You have to figure out some way to get through. Ron and I can help look out for him, but let's face it, he loves you and you have to decide what you want to do about it."

"Plus, he's _got_ to get on the Hogwarts Quidditch team," Ron chipped in.

"Right, Ron," Ginny retorted, "I'll work on that, too."

"No, really!" Ron said. "What a boost that would be for him, if he could fly as well as he used to."

"Ron's right," said Hermione. "It's all part of the same problem."

"Okay," Ginny sighed. "I guess you're right. But I'm tired. I need to go to bed."

She left them and went up to her dormitory and put on her nightgown. She sat on her bed and thought about what the day had brought. Some surprises, that was for certain. She had brought her doubts about Harry's feelings back to school with her, but now she could put those doubts away. Things seemed, all–in–all, a lot better. The fact that Harry had spoken to her so honestly was a good sign, a sign that maybe he would be able to do magic again, that the thing that was the most important to him — finding Voldemort — would still be possible. And he would be able to play on the Hogwarts Quidditch team.

At that thought, Ginny felt a twinge of excitement. She had been so preoccupied about Harry that she had not thought at all about the tryouts. She had as good a chance as anyone of making the team. It was a brilliant idea to have the entire school unite around one Quidditch team. No matter how bad things became outside, at least at Hogwarts there would be something to look forward to. With some pleasant thoughts finally in her mind, she got into bed and slept until the sun was well up.

The first week of school flew by. Every teacher plunged directly into lessons. Ginny knew from what her brothers and friends had told her that her sixth year would be hard, but all of the teachers seemed to be taking Professor McGonagall's challenge very seriously. Every night there were endless hours of homework, and every night Ginny went to bed late and exhausted.

Classes were smaller because there were fewer students, and that added to the intensity of the work. It was impossible to hide in a back row and daydream or catch up on work for another subject. Ginny did not dare use any of her ample supply of Skiving Skittles; each teacher was moving along so rapidly that she was afraid to miss a single class and fall behind.

She saw Harry at meals and evenings in the common room, and occasionally in the library. Ginny was distracted by schoolwork, and Harry seemed always to be deep in conversations with Ron and Hermione, so they never really talked. But whenever their paths crossed, he smiled and spoke a few words to her.

On Monday of the second week of the term, Harry, Ron, and Hermione disappeared. They did not show up for classes; they were not at any meals; no one in the common room could remember seeing them since the evening before. Rumors started flying. The most popular one was that they had gone on a secret mission to some unknown location for the Ministry of Magic. Since it was well known that Harry had faced and defeated large numbers of dementors — it was believed to be in the thousands — the purveyors of this particular rumor insisted that when Harry's mission was finished, the dementors mist would vanish.

Bu the weather did not change, and by the middle of the third day of their absence Ginny had become desperate. At lunch, she watched the staff table closely to see if any of the teachers were acting differently. With three of the school's best students gone missing — well, she reconsidered, maybe _two_ of its best students and their best friend — there should have been some kind of reaction from the staff. But all of them were behaving normally.

She waited in the entrance hall after the meal for Professor McGonagall to come out. When the Headmistress saw Ginny walking toward her, she spoke before Ginny could say anything.

"I know what you are going to ask, Miss Weasley, but I can't tell you anything other than that I know where they are and that they will be back tonight."

"Oh." The tirade Ginny had prepared fizzled, and now she was confused. "But where did they go?" she asked.

"I told you I cannot say," McGonagall replied coolly. "I understand your concern, but you'll have to leave it at that and wait for their return to find out more, if they choose to tell you anything."

Ginny looked away from the Professor's tight–lipped expression. This was not fair. She said aloud, "I think I have a right to know where my brother is, Professor."

McGonagall's face softened. "I'm sorry, Ginny. It's not up to me to decide who knows where they are. But they will be back some time this evening."

"It's the Order, isn't it?"

"No, it is not," McGonagall replied more coldly again. "But you will have to excuse me. I have to prepare for my next class." She nodded to Ginny and stepped past her and walked briskly down the hall.

Ginny had to be satisfied with that, and at least she now knew that her friends would return in a few hours. But the afternoon and evening passed, and still there was no sign of them. She went to bed and slept poorly, and dreamed that she watched Harry, Ron, and Hermione walk away onto a vast, empty field and disappear into mist and fog.

The next morning she awoke tired and cross and feeling abandoned and lonely. When she went down to the common room, she immediately noticed that Crookshanks, who had been sleeping in a chair near the fireplace for the past two nights, was not there. She raced back upstairs to Hermione's dormitory, and found her changing into her nightgown. Crookshanks was curled up at the foot of the bed.

"Are you all right?" Ginny cried anxiously. "I was so worried! Are Harry and Ron okay?"

Hermione nodded; she looked utterly exhausted. "Yes, we're all fine," she said, but she did not look at Ginny.

"Did Harry have...problems?" Ginny asked even more anxiously.

Hermione lay down on her bed and looked at the roof of the four–poster. "He's okay," she said, and closed her eyes. "It — it just didn't go well for all of us."

"What didn't go well?"

Hermione looked at her. "Ginny, you know I can't tell you. We promised Harry."

Ginny's frustration finally exploded. "So he'll be dead and you won't tell me why!" she yelled. "It's one thing to crack a tooth on a broomstick, Hermione, it's another thing to fight a Dark wizard when you can't even cast a spell! I know he's been having problems in Charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts. Everyone's talking about it. Why did you let him leave Hogwarts? You promised you would look out for him! This is looking out for him?"

Ginny's eyes flashed and she shook her finger at Hermione. She had never yelled at her friend like this, but a month's worth of feeling left out and ignored had finally come out.

Hermione sighed and sat up. "Ginny, listen to me. You're right. You _should_ know and you have a right to know. Ron thinks so, too. As far as we're concerned, it's a promise Harry made to a man who's now dead." She reached for Ginny's hand. "I'm really sorry. If you knew more you could be helping us. I am positive of that."

Ginny sat down on the bed; Hermione's sympathy had evaporated her anger. Finally Hermione spoke. "I never promised not to tell where we go. So listen carefully, and think carefully about what I'm telling you. We opened up the Chamber of Secrets again."

"No!" Ginny croaked in a strangled voice, and sprang from the bed. "Hermione, how could you do that?" She backed away, horror–stricken.

"Ginny, wait." Hermione tried to sound reassuring. "It's empty. Nothing is there. We wasted three days and two nights and found nothing." She grabbed Ginny's arm and would not let go. "Ginny, you must listen to me! Do you remember _anything_ about the Chamber? Did Riddle show you anything there? Was there anything in the diary about — about where he might want to hide something?"

Ginny yanked her arm from Hermione and backed away, until her hand groping behind her found the door handle. "How could you?" she said again. She slipped out of the room before Hermione could answer, shut the door, and leaned against the wall, her hand over her eyes. Images came back to her, images that she thought she had forgotten: the face of a handsome, smiling boy, whose eyes were cold and hypnotic; blood smeared on her hands and her clothes; feathers in her hair, stinking like rotted meat. And when the handsome boy talked to her, she disappeared from the world, and darkness always came.

She ran back to her room and flung open her trunk. She threw clothes and books onto the floor until she found the box of Skiving Skittles she had brought from Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. She dumped its contents into her trembling hand and stared at the pills. If she took one now, she would have the excuse of a fever, or disgusting boils on her face, or a rash all over her body, and she would not have to face her teachers or her classmates for at least a day. She picked up a yellow Skittle and started to put it in her mouth. Then she stopped. A face appeared in her mind again, but it was not the face of Tom Riddle and his mesmerizing eyes. It was the face of Harry Potter, sitting in the kitchen of the Burrow, and his eyes were filled with despair.

She put the Skittle down and got up from the floor. She looked in the mirror hanging over her dresser, and Harry's face looked back at her, but now his green eyes were wide with the surprise and delight she had seen as she was throwing herself into his arms with the entire House of Gryffindor celebrating around them.

She blinked, and her own face appeared in the mirror, tear–stained but with a fierce, blazing expression. Harry had told her about that expression, and what it had done to him, that same moment in the common room.

Ginny jammed her clothes and the Skiving Skittles back into the trunk and slammed it shut. She sat on her bed, gathering her thoughts and feelings. They were confused, but she would not give in to the helplessness that the remembrance of Tom Riddle had evoked. She had feared him then, she hated him now, and Hermione had hinted that there was a way for her to repay him for the torment she had endured. Resolved now in her mind, she left the room and went to breakfast.

Ginny did not do well in her classes that day; her mind was elsewhere. In Charms, she blew out an entire stained glass window when one of her spells misfired. In Potions, Professor Slughorn had to evacuate the classroom when she reversed two ingredients and a cloud of acrid green smoke started billowing out of her cauldron. She wandered absentmindedly through the day, thinking about what Hermione had said:_ "Think about it, Ginny. We opened the Chamber of Secrets."_ Why had she said it that way, and why had they done it? If it was empty, why had they spent three days there among symbols of a vile monster and the piles of bones and hideous snakeskins that littered it?

They were looking for something that had to do with Voldemort, but Hermione was wrong about the diary. It had nothing but blank pages in it, and besides, it was a memory of Voldemort's childhood, not of Voldemort. She tried to think of other things that might have some meaning. She racked her mind, but her memories of that experience were hard to hold onto; they kept fading in and out of her recollection.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione appeared in the Great Hall at dinnertime, and Ginny watched Harry as closely as she could without being totally obvious. He was quiet but did not seem depressed or even upset; he gave her the quick smile he had been greeting her with since their talk at the beginning of term. Ron was predictably ravenous and began eating even before he sat down. Hermione cast a glance at her. Ginny responded with a nod. "Did you catch up on your sleep?" she asked Hermione.

"Yup." Hermione smiled. "How was your day?"

"I had plenty to think about," Ginny replied. A look passed between them and Ginny knew that Hermione understood.


	7. Ginny's Tale

**Chapter Seven**

**Ginny's Tale**

Madam Hooch announced that tryouts for the Hogwarts Quidditch team would be held next Saturday. There would be a single rule: at least one player from each House would be selected for the team. Everyone assumed that this was for Slytherin's benefit, since all of their players from last year had either graduated or openly gone over to Lord Voldemort and were no longer at Hogwarts.

No one talked about anything else, in the Great Hall, in the common rooms, and in the corridors. Ginny had mixed feelings. She was looking forward to it, but she also was worried about Harry. It was true that he was not having problems flying; he and Ron went down to the Quidditch pitch every evening to practice, and Ron assured her that Harry was fine. But whispers about his troubles in class were floating around. Still, he was the only Seeker left from last year, so he wouldn't have any competition; maybe Madam Hooch would not even ask him to fly.

Saturday morning was cool and overcast. The dementors mist was light at first, but thickened as the time for the tryouts approached. Ginny walked down to the stadium with Luna and Neville, who were coming to watch and cheer. Judging from the number of students streaming down the lawn, most of the school would be there. On their way they were overtaken by Dean Thomas, Ritchie Coote, and Jimmy Peakes, three of the other Gryffindors who had announced that they would try out.

"Hey, Ginny," Dean called as they came up behind. "Lousy weather, isn't it?"

"Hello, Dean." Ginny nodded to him, but stayed with Luna and Neville. As they neared the stadium she hurried on ahead and came out on the pitch by herself.

She found herself in clear air under a gray dome. A weather charm had banished the dementors mist from the expanse above the stadium. The clear space was about a hundred feet high and overlapped the ends of the pitch. The hazy sun was almost visible.

Ginny looked around and saw that a section of the stands had been roped off, and about two dozen students were already there with their brooms. Harry was sitting in the front row with Ron, who was nervously tapping his broomstick on the ground; he looked pale. Ginny waved at Harry as she passed and sat down next to Ron.

"How are you feeling?" she asked her brother.

"Great, really great," he muttered without looking at her. "I couldn't eat breakfast."

"Well, I'm sure by the time we're done here, a delicious lunch will be ready." Ginny patted his knee and he glared at her. Harry laughed; he looked very relaxed.

At ten o'clock Madam Hooch walked onto the pitch and strode to the section where the hopefuls were sitting. The crowd around the stadium grew quiet.

"This is how it will work," she announced in her no–nonsense voice. "Seekers first, then Beaters, then Chasers against Keepers. In each group we'll start with the oldest and work down to the youngest." She paused and peered at them. "The objective is to field the strongest team, of course, but you all know the rule that each House must have at least one player on the team. This means that a strong player may lose out to someone not quite so strong. But that's the rule. If anyone has a problem with it, you can leave now."

She looked them over again. No one moved.

"Right." She took out her whistle. "Seekers first. Two at a time."

Harry stood up and started following her to the center of the pitch where the box with the Quidditch balls had been placed. Then Ginny heard a murmur behind her, and someone began stepping down the rows of benches. Harry stopped and looked back, and Ginny turned, as did everyone else. She saw, to her complete surprise, carefully climbing down onto the pitch, the first–year girl who had been Sorted into Slytherin.

Ginny had never noticed her in the corridors or the library, and had not concerned herself with the Slytherin table at mealtimes. Now she looked at her closely for the first time. She was small, barely five–feet tall. She had light brown hair, and was very fair. Her cheeks were slightly pink, but it was hard to tell if that was her complexion or if she was blushing. Ginny thought she was pretty. She was nervous, and did not look at anyone as she walked out onto the pitch.

Ginny nudged Ron. "What's her name?" she asked in a low voice.

Ron shrugged. "No idea. She has a Firebolt, though."

The girl looked up at Harry as she walked past him and smiled quickly. He nodded and said something to her, then followed to Madam Hooch who was watching the girl curiously. Someone up in the stands started hooting. "Met your match, did you Potter?" he yelled. Others around him laughed, and Ginny saw that a small group of Slytherins had come to watch.

Hooch was speaking to Harry and the girl. Ginny watched Harry closely. He was quite a bit taller, and looked down at her with a blank expression. His eyes lingered over her broomstick, which appeared to be quite a bit older than his own Firebolt.

Ginny nudged Ron again. "It's older than Harry's, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it's a pretty outdated model. His should be a lot faster."

Harry and the girl mounted their broomsticks and Madam Hooch released the Golden Snitch. All eyes followed it until it was lost in the mist high above. Hooch blew her whistle and Harry and the girl kicked off.

People in the stands started yelling and cheering. The Slytherins were on their feet, whistling and calling out taunts to Harry. Several minutes went by. The two Seekers circled the stadium, but the Snitch was nowhere to be seen. The girl tried to stay close to Harry, but he was clearly the better flyer on the faster broom, and he managed to keep his distance from her. Suddenly there were cries from all over the stadium, and Ginny saw Harry streaking toward the earth. For an instant she thought he had lost control again, and before she could stop herself she was on her feet screaming. Ron grabbed her arm and yanked her back down. Her scream was lost in the cheers and yells of the crowd. When she looked up again she spotted the Snitch below Harry, who was hurtling toward it and the ground.

Then another figure flashed out of the sky. Harry had seen the Snitch first, but the Slytherin girl was actually closer to it. She was cutting under him, trying to head him off. "My God," Ron muttered, "she's brilliant." The Slytherins in the stands were screaming and jumping up and down. For a moment Ginny had a vision of Harry standing open–mouthed and bewildered in the middle of the pitch watching the girl hand the Golden Snitch to Madam Hooch. Then she realized what Harry was doing. "No!" she cried to Ron, "_He's_ brilliant! Watch!" As the girl closed in on the Snitch, Harry's Firebolt gave a lurch, and he shot past her. The next instant he had the Snitch in his hand.

Ron was on his feet, whooping and clapping. "Yes! Brilliant!" He punched Ginny's arm. "He saw that she would spot it as soon as he started his dive, so he took some speed off, and she took the bait. She misjudged his drop. If she had flown full out, she would have beat him to it. Ah, that was genius!" He was dancing around in his excitement. Some of the other flyers around them were also talking about the maneuver. Not too bad, Ginny thought to herself, for someone who couldn't stay in the air a few weeks ago.

Harry and the girl walked back to the stands. Harry was talking, and she was looking up at him with an expression that made Ginny giggle. Ron looked at her. "What?" he said.

"Harry's got a fan club. I'll have to watch out for her."

Ron clapped Harry on the back as he sat down. Ginny moved aside to let the girl climb up. "You're good," Ginny said, and the girl blushed a brilliant red and tripped on the bench. Ginny caught her before she fell. "Why don't you try out for Chaser?" she said. "You're as good a flyer as anyone here."

"Not as good as him." She looked at Harry from under her eyebrows and blushed again.

"No one is, so don't worry about it," Ginny laughed. "Seriously, stay here and try out for Chaser."

"I'll see, maybe." The girl ducked her head and climbed to an empty seat. Several students sitting nearby smiled at her.

Madam Hooch came back to the tryout section. "No more Seekers? Beaters next, then, two on two. Are there any seventh and sixth years trying out for Beater?"

The tryouts continued. Two Beaters from Hufflepuff were chosen. A dozen students flew for the three Chaser spots, and Ginny, the Ravenclaw boy who Ron had recalled at the Burrow, and the little girl from Slytherin won the jobs. Ron's nervousness had vanished with Harry's capture of the Golden Snitch, and he stopped eight of ten shots; only Ginny and the little girl scored on him. He easily beat out a tall, lanky fifth-year from Slytherin who left the pitch complaining loudly about favoritism for Harry Potter and his friends.

The team met in the dressing room after the tryouts, and Hooch showed them their new Quidditch robes: black with red, yellow, blue, and green arm chevrons and the Hogwarts coat of arms on the back.

"We will be flying against professional players," she told them. "They are faster than all of you. They obviously have more experience. They will score a lot of goals, there is no way we can stop that." She looked at Ron. "You will have to keep your cool, Mr. Weasley, no matter how frustrated you are. Mr. Thumpel and Miss Romani," she turned to the Beaters from Hufflepuff, "we will be practicing blocking maneuvers as well as other defensive tactics. The Chasers will play back to help you out. We have to keep the score as close as possible. The key will be teamwork. Individual heroics will be next to useless against professionals like these. As for the Seeker, Mr. Potter, your stunt this morning was inspiring, but I assure you it won't work against someone like the Cannons' Forrester Salinger. He's seen it and used it longer than you have been flying. Come to think of it," she said with a raised eyebrow, "did you get it from him?"

Harry grinned sheepishly.

"I thought so. We'll have to come up with something more original if you want to have any chance at the Snitch."

Ginny caught Harry's eye and put her hand on the golden lion clasp in her hair. Harry grinned and nodded.

The lecture went on for several more minutes, and then the team left the dressing room and walked back to the castle together. Ginny found herself with the girl from Slytherin.

"I'm Ginny Weasley," she introduced herself as they left the stadium. The girl smiled at her.

"I'm Elspeth Pendragon. You're Harry Potter's girlfriend, aren't you?"

Ginny laughed and ignored the question. "Where are you from? How did you learn to fly like that? You almost beat him out."

Elspeth blushed. "My daddy taught me. He played Quidditch when he was here. But that was a long time ago. We live in Cornwall, near Penzance."

Ginny had never known a wizarding family from Cornwall, even though it was not all that far from the Burrow; she had never heard of Penzance, except for a vague memory of a song her father had once listened to on a Muggle device that played music.

"So your father played Quidditch for Slytherin?" she asked.

Elspeth frowned. "Um, no. He played for Hufflepuff. So did my mum."

"They were in Hufflepuff?" Ginny was a little surprised. Students were usually Sorted into the same House as their parents. To her knowledge it was unheard of for someone from a non–Slytherin family to end up in that House.

"Yes," the girl answered; she was still scowling. "Everyone in my family was." She glanced at Ginny. "Was your family in Gryffindor?"

"Always," Ginny said promptly. "As far back as anyone can remember."

They walked in silence for a few minutes. They were almost at the castle when Ginny spoke again. "What do your parents think about it? I mean, about your being in Slytherin instead of Hufflepuff?"

"My dad doesn't like it. My mum's dead."

"Oh, I'm sorry." Ginny was embarrassed; she shouldn't have pried.

"That's all right." Elspeth smiled again. "She died right after I was born, so I never knew her. My dad's coming tomorrow because it's the anniversary of when she was — I mean, when she died. We always visit the grave every year."

Ginny stopped dead in her tracks. She stared at the girl. "Your mum's grave?" she repeated.

"Yes. I'm sorry. I d–didn't mean to say anything," Elspeth stammered.

Ginny put her hand on Elspeth's shoulder. "No, it's okay. I'm sorry, I have to go. We'll talk later," she called over her shoulder as she took the steps two at a time into the castle.

Harry and Ron were at the end of the corridor, heading for the stairs to Gryffindor Tower. "Harry!" she yelled. "Wait! I have to talk to you!'

Harry and Ron stopped and turned as Ginny raced toward them. They both looked surprised, and Harry even more so as Ginny grabbed his shoulder, almost knocking him over. "It's the grave!" she sputtered breathlessly. "That's it! Riddle talked about his mum's grave!"

Harry didn't try to take her hand from his shoulder. Instead, he put his own hand on her mouth. Ginny was so startled that she dropped her broomstick. "Oh, I'm sorry." She turned red and picked it up. "I'm sorry, Harry. I didn't mean to do that. It's just that I suddenly remembered something about —"

He covered her mouth again. "Not here," he said quietly. He turned to Ron. "I think Hermione went to the library. Go find her and bring her to the common room. Tell her it's about a Horcrux."

Ron gaped at him for a moment, then glanced at Ginny.

"Go!" Harry said. "We'll be up there."

Ron turned and walked quickly down the hall. "Come on," Harry said to Ginny. For a moment she thought he would take her hand, but he gestured to the stairs instead, and they went up in silence. They didn't talk as they waited in the chairs in front of the fireplace, but Ginny could hardly contain herself. She was about to give Harry valuable information about Voldemort himself, something that probably no one else in the world knew. He _had_ to let her into his confidence after this.

Harry looked at her strangely, and Ginny realized that she was staring at him, and that she probably had a fairly stupid grin on her face. "S–sorry," she said quickly. "Weren't the tryouts great?"

"Uh, huh." Harry just looked at her. Ginny turned her head and stared at a portrait hanging next to the fireplace; the wizard in it rolled his eyes and made a zipping motion across his mouth with his hand.

In five minutes Ron was back with Hermione, who looked keenly at Ginny as they sat down. Harry pulled his chair around so that it faced the others and the common room; several people were scattered around the room studying or talking.

"Okay, Ginny," he said in a low voice, "what about his mum's grave?"

"What's a Horcrux?" she asked.

Harry sat back. "It's something that Voldemort uses," he said after a moment.

"That's what you're looking for, isn't it?" She followed Harry's glance at Ron and Hermione.

"I told her we were looking for something," Hermione stated defensively. "I didn't say what it was. Apparently someone else did."

"I did," Harry said. "Maybe I shouldn't have."

"Please don't start that, Harry," Ginny said. "I'll tell you what I know, but don't treat me like a first–year." Her voice softened. "I had to remind you once that I am the only person you know who can tell you what it's like to be possessed by Voldemort. Now I know something else about him. Why can't you take a chance on me?"

Harry looked uncomfortably at Hermione and Ron. Hermione looked at Ron.

"We agree," said Ron. "Come on, mate, you already spilled it. What else does she have to do to get you to trust her?"

"It's not a question of trust." Harry squirmed in his chair. "The more there are who know, the sooner he'll find out we're looking for them."

"So you _don't_ trust me!" Ginny exclaimed angrily. "That's great, Harry. Everyone in this school thinks I'm your girlfriend, but I'll tell them that I can't be because you don't trust me."

Now Harry looked upset. "I'm sorry," he mumbled. "I didn't mean that. Of course I trust you." He tried to smile, but Ginny had seen that look before when his own stubbornness was making him miserable.

"Okay," she said. "I know you do. Let me tell you what I just figured out downstairs."

They all leaned closer, and Ginny again thought that Harry was about to take her hand. This time he covered the gesture by hitching up his Quidditch robes.

Ginny began. "I was talking with the little Slytherin girl. Her name is Elspeth Pendragon. Her mum's dead. Every year she and her dad visit her grave. He's coming tomorrow to take her there. When she told me about visiting her mum's grave, all of a sudden I remembered something that Riddle said to me in the diary. In fact, he said it a lot."

"What do you mean, a lot?" Hermione asked.

"He never stopped talking about it. Now that I recall, he was pretty obsessed. He said it over and over. He wanted to find his mum's grave. He said he wanted to find it so that she wouldn't be alone any more."

"Alone," Harry repeated. "Did he mean that after he found it she wouldn't be alone?"

"I don't know. I don't' remember him talking about what he would do after he found it." She shook her head. "There's so much I can't remember. I've tried, but it's like walking into a dark room, but your eyes never get used to it. Sometimes I'm not even sure I'm there myself."

They were all silent. Finally Ron asked, "Do you think he hid one there? And if he did, where is it, anyway? From what Dumbledore said, I'd say that no one knows where she was buried."

Harry didn't answer; he looked uncertainly at Ginny. Hermione saw his look.

"Harry, you've got to tell her everything," she insisted. "There's more information inside her head, she just has to figure out how to remember it. Ginny can help you more than Ron and I put together. Stop this nonsense about protecting her!"

Harry sat back in his chair and looked into the fire. Hermione scowled but said nothing. Finally Harry faced Ginny. He reached out and took her hand. Ginny's heart skipped a beat.

"Ginny." He was almost whispering. "I won't change my mind about your coming with us, but I'm asking you to help me, on my terms. Can you do that?" Hermione hissed, but Harry ignored her.

Ginny's heart stopped pounding. "What do you want from me, Harry?" She looked down. "I've been killing myself with this ever since you got back from the Chamber of Secrets. Do you have any idea how painful this has been? Do you think I give a damn about saving the wizarding world? I'm doing it for you."

She put her face in her hand; Harry was still holding the other. She tried to pull it away, but he held it tight. "Ginny, that's not what I meant."

"Let go!" she yelled, and the common room went quiet as people turned to look. She yanked her hand away and stood up. "Now watch _me_ walk away!" she shouted. She shoved her chair back and it toppled over with a crash. The room was dead silent as she stormed away to the girls' staircase. She heard Hermione calling Harry something that she had never heard her friend say before.

Ginny stomped up the stairs and stopped at the door to her room. She took several deep breaths. Someone came up behind her, and she knew without looking that it was Hermione. She opened the door and went inside and dropped into a chair. Hermione followed and closed the door.

"I can't believe he did that," Hermione fumed. "What a git. Dump him, Ginny. Dean Thomas would be a lot less trouble."

Ginny stared blankly into space for a moment. Then, to Hermione's surprise, she smiled. "Hermione, would you dump Ron if he did something stupid only because he thought he was saving the world? Of course Harry was an effing moron, like you said. I'm royally ticked at him. But I'm not heartbroken." She laughed. "And I've been looking for an excuse to walk away from him. He's already done it to me three times, you know, so I figured it was a little payback. It actually felt quite good."

"So... so you're okay with it?" Hermione was incredulous.

"No, I'm not okay with it," Ginny scowled. "It hurts. But I don't want him to fall off a broom again." She eyed Hermione. "What was his reaction after I walked away?"

"He looked like he had just swallowed a Skrewt. Ron was mad at him, too," she added.

"Good." Ginny smiled. "So how long is it safe for me to keep him sleeping on the sofa?"

Hermione roared with laughter. "Oh, Ginny, that's perfect! Does Harry Potter need you! Oh dear." She wiped tears from her eyes. "Well, keep him there at least for a while. But how do you know it's safe?" She burst out laughing again.

"Because three weeks ago when I got here he told me he couldn't eat when I was near him. My enchanting personality and bewitching looks must be too distracting." She laughed at Hermione, who wasn't sure if Ginny was joking. "Seriously," Ginny went on, "he did tell me that he couldn't trust himself in a tight spot if I was around, but I didn't call him on it. But after what he said today..." She thought for a moment. "I couldn't go off with you lot, anyway. I'm underage. We would all get in trouble."

"That's true. So you can accept his so–called terms without giving anything up."

That's exactly what I was thinking," Ginny agreed. She pondered again. "Do you think Harry was thinking that?"

"No, not at all. He was thinking about being in a tight spot with you. He also wants to protect you, so give him credit for that. But if he thought about it at all, he would see the underage problem pretty quickly. Maybe he already has, but he doesn't want to bring it up. You'd be pretty angry if he did, wouldn't you?"

"Yeah, I would."

"Ginny, don't be too hard on him."

Ginny sighed. "I don't think I can be. I blew up without thinking, but two seconds later I wanted to tell him I was sorry."

"I know what you mean. Ron and I went through this kind of thing for years, and every time it happened I wanted to punch him and kiss him at the same time." She chuckled.

Ginny smiled, then she straightened up. "So, Hermione, what's a Horcrux?"

"Oh." Hermione sobered immediately. "Ginny, it's the worst Dark Magic imaginable, and you must promise not to tell _anyone_."

Hermione told her everything she knew about Horcruxes, and when she was finished Ginny shook her head. "That's the most horrible thing I've ever heard," she said. "To take someone's life so you can be immortal is as evil as it can get. Harry _has_ to destroy him." They sat in silence, and then Ginny spoke again. "So that's why you were in the Chamber of Secrets, and that's what you were doing last summer when you all left the Burrow. You were trying to find a Horcrux."

"And destroy it. Harry helped Dumbledore find one, so he knows what that's like. But we don't have a clue how to destroy one. It can't be easy. It almost killed Dumbledore. Do you remember how his arm looked last year? That was from destroying a Horcrux."

Ginny grimaced. "Maybe someone like Professor McGonagall or Mad–Eye Moody would know. I'll bet Snape does."

"I'll bet he does, too," Hermione agreed. "But don't tell _anyone_ about it, Ginny, not even someone in the Order. We all agreed that Harry would be the one to decide who knows and who doesn't."

Ginny nodded, and was about to get up when Hermione stopped her. "Wait, there's something interesting I found out today." Ginny sat back down and looked at her expectantly; whenever Hermione said she had something interesting to say, it was worth listening to.

"I went to the library right after the tryouts," Hermione began. "I was fascinated by that girl, Elspeth Pendragon. I was sitting in the stands near those Slytherin prats and heard them talking about her. They don't like her. They were calling her a blood traitor, and complaining that she had been Sorted into Slytherin. So I looked her family up, and it's amazing. They may be the oldest wizarding family in Britain. They go back so far that nobody knows where they came from. There's even a tradition in their family that they were here when Merlin came."

"Ah!" exclaimed Ginny. "That explains why she was so unhappy about being in Slytherin. Her parents were both Hufflepuffs. Her family's been in Hufflepuff forever."

Hermione nodded. "Yes, I read that, too. So the really interesting question is, why did the Hat put her in Slytherin? It's not supposed to care how many it Sorts into one House or another. It's just supposed to put you into the House that's right for you."

Hermione thought for a moment. "I wonder," she mused. "From what you say, she's not at all like any other Slytherin I ever knew. Do you think that the Hat could have another purpose?"

Ginny stood up. "It is really interesting, but I really want to talk to Harry."

"Right." Hermione didn't seem to be listening. She got up also. "I need to go back to the library. I'll see you later."

Ginny followed her downstairs, and saw Ron sitting by himself at the fireplace. He looked up as Ginny walked over, and glanced at Hermione as she hurried out the portrait hole. "Where's she going?" he asked.

"Back to the library. Something about a plot being hatched by the Sorting Hat." Ginny looked around the common room. "Do you know where Harry is?"

"Huh? What plot?"

"Nothing." Ginny laughed. "She's trying to find out about Elspeth Pendragon. Where's Harry?" she asked again.

"He said he was going down to the lake, hopefully not to drown himself. I started to tell him he was a right bloody git, but he was being so hard on himself that I couldn't do it. You should go talk to him. Why Elspeth Pendragon?"

"Ask Hermione. I have to find Harry," Ginny said to a bemused Ron as she hurried to the portrait hole.


	8. The Chudley Cannons

**Chapter Eight**

**The Chudley Cannons**

When Ginny got outside she saw that it would not be easy to find Harry. The dementors mist had closed in, and she could see only a few yards in front of her. She considered whether to wait until lunchtime, but decided that if Harry was as upset as Ron said, she wanted to talk to him now. She headed toward the lake, walking slowly through the fog. She came to the edge of the water and didn't know what to do. She could go the wrong way and miss him completely, or she could go the right way and still miss him completely. As she stood uncertainly, she heard a rush of wings, and a large white owl emerged out of the mist, hooting loudly. "Hedwig!" Ginny called. "Where's Harry?"

The owl disappeared to the left and Ginny followed. She could hear Hedwig hooting, and every few seconds the owl circled back and appeared dimly overhead, then flew off again in the same direction. They circled the lake until a white object loomed, and Hedwig alighted on Dumbledore's Tomb. Ginny saw Harry sitting with his back against the Tomb, throwing pebbles into the lake. He looked up at Ginny and scrambled to his feet.

"Harry," Ginny said.

"Ginny, I'm sorry," he blurted. "I say things and as soon as they're out of my mouth I wish I hadn't said them. I don't want to fight."

"Then we won't."

Harry walked to the water's edge. He threw a pebble into the lake; they couldn't see in the thick fog where it landed, but they heard the soft plop. Ginny came and stood next to him.

"I do trust you," he said, looking out at the featureless fog. "It's myself I don't trust. Things scare me and I don't know what I would do if something scary happened and you were there. I think a lot about when they caught us in that room with the prophecy. Do you remember? They wanted to hurt _you_ first. Not because you were my girlfriend, but because you were the youngest." He threw another pebble and they heard another plop.

"We got out."

"Yeah, but I can't help thinking about it." Another pebble hit the water. "Ginny, do you know how many people who were close to me have died?" Another pebble. "Do you see why I'm scared?"

"I've known for a long time why you're scared." Ginny was trying to keep her voice steady. This had become another disconcerting conversation with Harry.

"I shouldn't have said anything about Horcruxes. It slipped out. When you came running up to me in the corridor it was too much like... like last year in the common room when you... Anyway, it's another thing I'm sorry about."

"Just so you know, I'm not sorry you said it." Now she had lost control of her voice. She said tremulously, "I keep on saying that it's okay when you push me away, but it isn't." She looked at him and her eyes blazed. "But I also meant what I said about doing it for you, and I will do whatever I can to help you. If I can't be with you, then so be it."

A louder splash came from the lake, and Ginny felt a familiar sensation: eyes from afar seeing inside her head. Harry peered at the water, his wand in his hand.

"It's okay." Ginny pushed his wand down. "Don't point your wand. Wait."

The mermaid appeared out of the fog, very close to shore. It swam within a few yards of them and stopped. It gazed at them for a moment before slowly turning away and disappearing back into the murk. They did not move until Ginny noticed that she was clutching Harry's arm. She quickly pulled her hand away. Harry glanced at her and then back at the lake.

"What was that about?" he wondered. "Did you ever see anything like it?"

"Um, I don't think so," Ginny mumbled. "Can we go back? It must be close to lunch time."

"Yes, let's go. That was very strange. Hedwig!" he called.

As they passed the Tomb, Ginny noticed something lying on top of it: a small, brown lump; it was a dead mouse. She laughed. "Look! Hedwig left a little gift."

Harry chuckled. "She's done that before. But there's never anything left when we come back. I guess something else eats it."

"Do you come here often?" Ginny asked as they followed the lake shore back to the lawn.

Harry nodded. "A lot. But I never saw a mermaid before." He looked at Ginny again. "Did it come because of you? Why did you tell me to put my wand down?"

Ginny hoped that Harry couldn't see her blush. "Why would it want me?" She forced a laugh. "It must have come to see the famous Harry Potter."

Harry did not laugh, or even smile. "I guess that was it," he said. They walked the rest of the way to the castle in silence.

The next few days were uneventful, to Ginny's relief. She had a lot to sort out: how to keep herself from saying stupid things to Harry; where she stood with Harry; where Harry stood with her; getting her mind around the idea that something as gruesome as a Horcrux existed; and mermaids again. Not to mention the loads of homework that all the teachers continued to assign. There was one thing to look forward to, though: Quidditch practices were about to begin.

The evening before the first practice, Ginny was alone in the common room when Ron came in the portrait hole. He had been in the library with Hermione, who was still trying to penetrate the intentions of the Sorting Hat.

"Where's Harry?" Ginny asked as Ron sat down at the table where she was working; it was covered with piles of books for a parchment she was writing on snake venoms and their uses. "I haven't seen him tonight."

"He's spending extra time with Flitwick. There are some charms that he can't do anymore." Ron did not look happy.

"Still?" Ginny exclaimed; she put down her quill. "What's happening? I thought that if he could fly so well again that meant he was okay."

"It's weird. We went down to the pitch right after dinner and he did great. But other stuff like his spells have got worse, if anything. I dunno, Ginny. What did you say to him by the lake? He was kinda quiet afterward."

"I told him I would do whatever he wanted. Again. I thought we had a good talk, even though he was a little morbid. He mentioned all the people he knew who have died."

Ron grunted. "He gets that way sometimes. Well..." He got up. "I'm going to bed. I can imagine how Hooch is going to work us. You ought to get some sleep, too."

Ginny stayed up, as much to wait for Harry as to finish her parchment. He and Hermione finally stepped through the portrait hole together just before midnight. Ginny recognized the look on his face; she had seen it at the Burrow the morning of the trio's return from the Horcrux hunt: haggard and exhausted. He glanced around the common room, and instead of going to the chairs in front of the fireplace, he walked over to Ginny's table; Hermione followed.

"Harry, you look tired," Ginny said.

He heaved a sigh. "I am. I was in Professor Flitwick's office all evening."

"Oh." Did that mean he wanted to talk about it?

Hermione gave Ginny a look. "I think I'll be going to bed," she announced. "See you tomorrow."

They watched her disappear up the stairs, then Harry sat down next to Ginny and looked at the scattered heaps of books and scrolls. "Potions?" He picked up Ginny's copy of _Advanced Potion Making_. "There's nothing written in the margins, is there?" he grinned.

"No." Ginny smiled back. "No half–blood princesses."

Harry laughed, and for a moment he didn't seem so worn. "Good. The prince got me into more trouble than he was worth."

The room was quiet; it was empty except for themselves and a third–year boy who had fallen asleep in a chair under a window. Harry glanced at another book, picked up a parchment that Ginny had written on, and put it down. He did not speak.

"Harry," Ginny said quietly, "did you want to talk about Professor Flitwick?"

Harry picked up a quill and fiddled with it. He reached into his belt and pulled out his wand and placed it on the table. "Holly, eleven inches, tail feather of Fawkes." He sounded as though he was reciting a recipe. "Something's happened, Ginny. I suppose Ron or Hermione told you. I thought that Flitwick could tell me if I'm doing something wrong, or if something happened to my wand." He looked at her. "Some of my spells don't work."

"I know." Ginny wanted to sound reassuring, but she wasn't sure how to do it in the circumstances. She also wanted to hold his hand and caress his face and tell him that everything would be fine, but she did not know how to do that in the circumstances, either.

Harry twirled his wand. "Professor Flitwick said that all my incantations and movements are good, and he tried the wand and it worked perfectly. He said that I should go see Madam Pomfrey, but I don't know what she could tell me. I wish Sirius was alive."

He bowed his head and peered at the wand, but Ginny knew that he was not seeing it. There was darkness about him, a black cloud blocking the light. She bit her lip to keep it from trembling and put her hand on his arm. He didn't look at it, but he didn't move his arm away. He gave a long, loud sigh and raised his head. His eyes wandered over her face, and Ginny thought that he was going to kiss her, but the moment slipped away. He moved his arm and she let it go.

"This is so hard," he muttered. "I hate Voldemort!" He slammed his fist on the table and a pile of books toppled to the floor. The student at the other end of the room sat up, startled.

"I'm sorry." Harry got down onto the floor and put the books back on the table. He stood up.

"Go get some sleep, Harry," Ginny said. "It's late. We have practice tomorrow."

Harry smiled, and the darkness lifted. "Right. We'll have to work on some tactics to get your lion involved."

"Sounds like a plan." Ginny did not have to fake her enthusiasm. "See you in the morning."

"'Night." He walked slowly away. At the bottom of the stairs he stopped and looked back. She smiled, and he turned and went up.

Ginny finally finished her parchment and cleaned up the table. She wearily climbed to her room, fed and watered her Pygmy Puffs, and fell into bed. But she could not sleep. She felt strangely both disheartened and encouraged. Harry was having more and more trouble fighting himself, and his torment was hard to watch. But there was no longer any doubt that his feelings for her had not changed, as she had feared at the end of the summer. With that thought shimmering in her mind, she finally fell asleep.

The Hogwarts Quidditch team held its first practice after classes the next day. Professor Flitwick appeared and cast a weather spell that cleared the dementors mist from the pitch. "That was harder than getting rid of your brothers' swamp," he squeaked to Ginny who was standing nearby.

But the charm worked, and the team kicked off into the air. Madam Hooch put them through several rigorous drills, both defensive and offensive, and by the time she had finished with them everyone was tired and in high spirits. Ginny discovered that she worked well with the other Chasers, Elspeth Pendragon and Erskine Labine, the fifth–year from Ravenclaw. Ginny was especially glad to see how well Harry was flying. Whatever had happened last summer at the Burrow when he could not control his broomstick, was not affecting him now. She thought hard about it, and remembered the hurt in his eyes when she had told him about her meeting with Dean Thomas. She was sure that whatever was behind that look was also behind the problem he had flying.

The dressing room afterward was boisterous. The two Hufflepuff Beaters, Thurmond Thumpel and Carlotta Romani, performed a harmonic duet of the Chudley Cannons' fight song, which Ron joined in until his off–key singing provoked everyone to beat him into silence with their towels. On their way back to the castle, students called out to them and clapped as they passed. Ginny walked with Harry and Ron.

"We can't use the golden lion trick if the sun isn't out," Harry observed, looking up at the low–hanging fog.

"Then it all depends on your talent." Ginny grinned and put her hand on his shoulder. "I wouldn't bet against you, you were brilliant out there."

"Well, it's a lot harder in a match." He tried unsuccessfully to sound modest, and he did not object to where her hand was.

Ginny watched Elspeth Pendragon walking ahead of them, talking with the two Hufflepuffs. "Did you see her dad when he was here to take her to her mum's grave?" she asked Ron. "He looked familiar. I wonder if he works at the Ministry."

"I didn't see him," Ron replied. He lowered his voice, so that only Ginny and Harry could hear. "You know, I was wondering if she could get us into the Slytherin common room. We haven't been there since our second year, and I wouldn't be surprised if there was something, um, of interest there."

Harry frowned. "I've thought about using my cloak, but I won't ask her to help us. That would be a betrayal of her own House. I wouldn't ask anyone to do that."

"Well, I would," Ron growled. "I bet we could have found out about the attack on the train last spring."

"Maybe, but I still wouldn't ask _her_ to do it."

Ginny wanted to tell Harry that he was right, but thought it best for now if she kept her counsel about the Horcrux hunt.

The days and weeks passed and the weather grew worse and Harry's mood got better. He began to include Ginny in their conversations about Voldemort and the Horcruxes. Ginny was not sure if that had anything to do with his improved mental state, but his spells did start to work a little better. And his flying _was_ superb. He was unstoppable in practice, even while playing Chaser when Madam Hooch wanted to give Elspeth some time at Seeker. He was able to score almost at will against Ron, who had little trouble stopping the other Chasers. It didn't seem to bother Ron, though.

"I figure the Cannons will be at least as much trouble as you are, mate," he reasoned as they headed back to the castle after an early November practice; they could barely see each other in the fog and dusk. "So keep it coming. The more you score on me the less it will bother me when they do."

Ginny was walking between him and Harry. "It's good to see you so optimistic," she quipped. "A Keeper's attitude is so important to the team."

"Well, that's my attitude. You play Keeper if you think it's a problem. You've got two weeks to learn the position."

Elspeth was walking in front of them with the two Beaters, hugging her arm to her side. Carlotta had caught her in the shoulder with a well–aimed Bludger, and was helping her along.

"Elspeth, how's your arm?" Ginny called.

"It'll be fine," the girl answered. "I've been hurt worse."

"Playing Quidditch?" Ginny asked.

Elspeth stopped and let the others catch up; Carlotta kept her arm around Elspeth's waist.

"No," Elspeth replied as they all walked together. "It was a magical thing. I was little and there was a jinx of some kind and it hit my arm. All I can remember is how bad it hurt. Dad took me to St. Mungo's and I had to stay there for a week." She giggled. "They gave me lots of candy."

"How did it happen? Who would use a jinx on a little girl?" Ginny was indignant.

They were walking up the steps to the castle, and Elspeth hesitated. "It happened when we were visiting my mum's grave. I don't remember anything else."

Ginny did not want to press Elspeth to talk about it, so she dropped it. The team parted in the entrance hall and they all headed to their own common rooms. Ginny hurried upstairs to change out of her Quidditch robes, and then she went back down to meet Harry, Ron and Hermione; they had been meeting regularly in front of the fireplace to talk about Horcruxes. Harry and Ron were already there, but Hermione was missing, and Ron was annoyed. "She's in the bloody library. She never spent so much time there even before O.W.L.s. What could be so important about the Sorting Hat?"

"Well, here she is," Ginny said as Hermione came through the portrait hole.

"How's the Hat plot coming along?" Ron asked.

"I'm not researching the Sorting Hat anymore," Hermione answered. "There's almost nothing written about it, anyway. I'm looking up something else."

"What is it?" Harry wanted to know. "Does it have anything to do with Merope Gaunt's grave?"

"Can't say yet."

"I don't like sitting around doing nothing," Harry declared. "The dementors are getting stronger, if that fog's any indication, which means that Voldemort's getting stronger. I'd just like to get it over with."

Ginny squirmed in her chair but said nothing.

Ron spoke. "I've been doing some thinking about how to get rid of Horcruxes. Dumbledore lost his arm, but we keep forgetting that Harry destroyed one without getting hurt."

"I've thought about that, too," Hermione said, "but it's different. The diary was a Horcrux that Riddle made when he was still rather young and not as powerful as he became later. And Harry needed a pretty strong magical object to destroy it. I don't think we'll find many basilisk fangs lying around a graveyard."

"Of course it's different," Ron countered, "but that just shows that they _all_ might be different. We don't have to assume that you'll lose an arm or a leg when you destroy one."

"You shouldn't assume the opposite, either," Ginny put in. She used the word "you" deliberately; she had noticed that Harry was bothered when she said "we" in their conversations.

They went back and forth for several minutes, but as usual resolved nothing. The conversation drifted to the upcoming Quidditch match, and then to the Christmas holidays. Ron and Ginny were pressing Harry to come to the Burrow, but he would not commit himself. Ginny didn't like that; if he stayed at Hogwarts there would be no one to keep him from going off on his own. But it was still over a month away, so she tried not to be concerned about it yet. The conversation finally petered out and they all went to bed or off to study.

The final two weeks before the first match flew by. The team felt more and more confident with each practice, and the rest of the school caught their mood. Banners appeared in the Great Hall and in the corridors: "Hogwarts United," "Potter Rules," "Romani Is Regal," and "Weasley Is Our King" were the most popular.

The Chudley Cannons arrived Friday afternoon before the match and joined the rest of the school for dinner. They sat at the Slytherin table, since it was almost empty, and the Hogwarts team sat with them. Most of the Slytherins looked at them all coldly, but one or two spoke to Elspeth and seemed interested in the Cannons.

Ron, on the other hand, was in seventh heaven. He never stopped talking about the team, its record, its history, its uniform robes, its players, its stadium, its tactics, its prospects for next season, and on and on. He sat next to the Cannons' Keeper, a tall, sandy–haired wizard named Byron "Broomstick" Bailey. All the players had nicknames, it turned out; Forrester Salinger, the Seeker, was known as "Fingers" for his long, slender, bony hands.

All of the Cannon players were curious about Harry, but they kept their questions and conversations with him to the subject of flying. They seemed to know a lot about him, for instance that he had never flown until he was eleven, which was a late start for a Quidditch player; most of the Cannons had got their first brooms when they were toddlers. Ginny, who was sitting across from Harry, noticed that the players' eyes occasionally strayed to Harry's scar, but no one mentioned You–Know–Who.

The meal and the evening passed very pleasantly, and the next morning the whole school was in state of suspenseful anticipation. The team members ate breakfast at their House tables, and left together for the stadium. The dressing room was quiet as they changed into their Hogwarts robes. Ginny was nervous and had to ask Carlotta to put her golden lion clip in her hair because her hands were so sweaty. Madam Hooch gave them one final pep talk.

"Don't worry about mistakes," she said. "They happen. Think about what we practiced and think about your teammates and your school, and you'll be fine. The main thing is to have fun."

"Fun?" Ginny muttered to Ron, who was sitting next to her. "What's wrong with winning?"

"Nothing's wrong with winning, Miss Weasley." Madam Hooch had heard her. "But there's also nothing wrong with giving your best and, as I said, having fun." Ginny thought it sounded like Hooch was bracing them for the worst.

When the team appeared on the pitch, they were met by a wave of shouts and cheers. The stadium was full; there were not only students, but also their families, former students, Ministry officials, and a large number of Aurors. The Cannons were already out in their brilliant orange robes, zipping around the stadium on their broomsticks. Once again a weather charm was keeping the dementors mist high above the pitch. The referee, an official from the English–Irish League, blew his whistle and the teams gathered around. He released the balls, blew his whistle again, and the match began.

It was a painful disaster for the Hogwarts team. Time and again their Chasers were ridden off the Quaffle by Cannon players who seemed to know exactly where their opponents wanted to go. Thurmond and Carlotta's Bludgers were almost always easily dodged, but the ones hit by the Cannon Beaters always found their marks. Soon Ginny's face was bloody and Erskine and Elspeth were nursing bruised arms and shoulders.

Ron was spectacular, making save after acrobatic save, but even he could not completely stop the waves of Cannon attackers that swarmed the goals. By the time it was seventy to nothing Ron was screaming and swearing at every opponent who came near him. He made another save, and managed to pass the Quaffle off to Ginny, who had circled back to help. She bent as low over her broomstick as she could and streaked for the other end of the pitch. A Cannon Beater moved in, but Erskine bumped his bat and the Bludger flew wide. Ginny closed in on the goal, and at the last possible moment she passed to Elspeth whose shot beat the Keeper but clanged off the hoop, inches from a score.

Elspeth swore, and Ginny, despite total frustration, laughed. She had never heard the girl say anything less polite than "sorry." "We'll get the next one!" she shouted over the crowd noise. Elspeth grimaced and massaged her throwing hand, which to Ginny's eye looked like it might be broken.

Meanwhile, Harry was circling under the dome of fog desperately looking for the Golden Snitch. Forrester Salinger was content to shadow him from above. Harry could not shake him, no matter how he tried. He knew what Salinger was doing: if Harry spotted the Snitch first, Salinger figured that he would be fast enough to overtake him. The only chance Harry had was to decoy him.

He finally saw the Snitch, right after Elspeth's near–miss; it was hovering near the Cannons' goal. He started to spiral down, trying to look like he was still searching. Suddenly there was a piercing, high–pitched whistle that could be heard over the noise of the crowd; it came from the Cannons' Keeper. Salinger dove past Harry at a speed that astonished him, and he realized that the call was a signal. He dove too late, and Salinger grabbed the Snitch while Harry was still twenty yards away.

It was a dazed, battered, and angry team that staggered into the Hogwarts dressing room. Harry was the only one who was not injured, but he was furious. Ginny threw her broom against the wall and kicked it when it rebounded, flew back, and landed at her feet. Ron stormed around the room, swearing with more originality than Ginny had ever heard from him. When Madam Hooch entered with Professor McGonagall she had to blow her whistle to get their attention.

Ginny spoke before Hooch could open her mouth. "I guess we'll be having even more fun in the hospital wing tonight," she snarled. She kicked her broom again, and McGonagall had to jump to avoid it.

"Miss Weasley, that is quite enough," the Headmistress scolded. "You were beaten by a professional team, but think about it, you held your own. You lost but I assure you that you earned their respect and the respect of everyone in the stadium."

"What about that signal?" Harry said angrily. "I had a shot at the Snitch until the bloody Keeper tipped him off. That's illegal. The referee should have called it."

"Technically, yes," Hooch replied. "But that's the way the game is played by professionals. It's their livelihood and they do what's necessary to win."

Harry looked at Ginny. "Then next time we'll have our own little trick, right?" Ginny nodded. Harry stood and turned to the teachers. "We'd like to be alone, if you don't mind."

McGonagall considered him. "Very well, but all of you are to report to the hospital wing before lunch. Including you, Mr. Potter." They left.

The team looked at Harry. He walked over to Ginny and she undid her clip and handed it to him. He held it up. "This will glint in the sun just like the Snitch. I don't know how we can do it with this damned fog, but we'll figure out something." He looked at them. "Besides, now we know what we're facing." They all started speaking at once.

"We'll get our brooms souped up!" "We need more passing drills!" "Hooch is too hung up on defense!" "That ref was totally biased!"

Harry held up his hand. "That's all true. But we need some real opposition when we practice." He turned to Ron. "Find out if any of your brothers can help us. Does anyone else have a relative or friend who played here?"

Erskine had a brother and Carlotta a sister who had played Quidditch at Hogwarts, and Carlotta's sister had played professionally for two years. "I'll owl her this afternoon," she said.

"My dad coached a team for a while," Elspeth chimed in. "I think he might really like to help."

"Okay!" Harry clapped his hands. "We can do this! We had some good scoring chances, and I still think I would have caught the Snitch. I don't see any reason why we can't win at least one match."

"What about Hooch?" Ron asked. "She won't like it if we bring in outsiders to coach us."

"Then the hell with her!" Ginny snapped. "She can stay in a broom cupboard and have as much fun as she wants. I didn't like being pushed around. I'm with Harry."

The others all murmured their assent, and Ron waved his hand. "I was just asking. It's fine with me."

A short time later the team filed out of the stadium, and they found a crowd of students waiting. Cheers went up. "Get 'em next time!" someone called, and there were more shouts. Hermione pushed through and, to applause and whistles, grabbed Ron and kissed him on the lips. "The king!" she proclaimed. "You were brilliant!"

Ron turned a fiery red, but did not object to either the cheers or the kiss. They passed through the throng, and as they walked up the lawn, Hermione pulled Harry back. "We have to talk right away," she whispered. "Bring Ginny up to the common room."

She said no more, but hurried ahead with Ron in tow. Harry looked for Ginny, who was with the two other Chasers, and he beckoned to her. "Hermione says to come up to the common room," he said in her ear. "Right away."

They left the team and the crowd of fans and followed Ron and Hermione. When they came through the portrait hole, the two were sitting down in front of the fireplace. Harry and Ginny joined them, and Hermione leaned forward with a glint in her eye.

"I know we're all careful about what we say to other people, but now we have to be extra–careful. I've been tracking down Elspeth Pendragon's ancestry, and —"

"I thought you already did that?" Harry interrupted.

"I did, but I went back to it after I gave up on the Sorting Hat. At first I was just interested in whether her ancestors actually knew Merlin. But then Ron told me something that Elspeth said, and I decided to look at it from a slightly different angle. I told you that she's descended from a very old wizarding family from Cornwall, but that's on her father's side. What I've been researching for the last week is on her mother's side."

She paused. The others looked at her expectantly.

"On her mother's side," Hermione continued, "she's also pure–blood as far back as I could find. But not quite so far back, I found a very interesting connection." She paused again.

"Come on," Ron urged impatiently. "Don't be so dramatic."

Hermione smiled. "Okay. Here it is. Elspeth Pendragon's great–great–grandmother was the great aunt of Merope Gaunt."

They stared at her. Ginny felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. She spoke hoarsely. "So the jinx that hit Elspeth when she was visiting her mum's grave as a child must be there —"

"To protect Merope's grave," Hermione finished. "Voldemort and Elspeth are cousins. Voldemort's mother is buried near Elspeth's mother. And there's a Horcrux in the grave."


	9. Moody's Message

**Chapter Nine**

**Moody's Message**

Harry stood up. "Come on," he said to Hermione. "I want to know everything."

"Do you mean right now, in the library?" Hermione said. "Ron told me you're all supposed to go see Madam Pomfrey. Judging from Ginny's face, I'd say that's a good idea."

Ginny put her hand to her cheek. "What?" she exclaimed. She jumped up and ran to a window and looked at her reflection. "Oh my God." She touched the large bruise under her eye. "I'll see you all at lunch," she said on the way to the portrait hole.

Ron got up. "I'd better go with her. My hand's killing me."

At lunchtime, the only topic in the Great Hall was the match. The Cannons sat at the Slytherin table again, but no students joined them. Harry, Ron and Ginny could scarcely get a bite of food to their mouths, with all the indignant comments and questions thrown their way. It was the consensus that the referee had stolen the game for Chudley. Harry promised everyone that next time would be different.

The four spent the rest of the afternoon in the common room debating Hermione's news, and the more they talked, the unhappier Ginny became. Hermione had located the graveyard on a map, and Harry wanted to go there immediately. Hermione insisted that they needed a plan, that what they had gone through last summer showed that disaster would be the outcome otherwise. That made sense to Ginny, but she didn't know how rationally she could talk about it. She would not be able to go with them; she would have to wait at school or at home wondering whether they were all dead, or maimed, or taken captive by Lord Voldemort. She did not contribute much to the conversation.

Hermione and Ron finally wore Harry down. "Okay, I agree that we can't go right away," he conceded, "but we can't wait much longer. The Ministry hasn't captured a single Death Eater since last spring, the fog is getting worse, and no one has a clue where Voldemort is. The longer we wait, the stronger he gets, and the harder it will be to do _anything_ about the Horcruxes."

It was left at that. In the following days, Harry and Ron started spending more time in the library with Hermione — and Harry even more hours there by himself. But Ginny never went with them. Her heart was not into helping plan an adventure that she could not join, but which was bound to leave her in a state of total anxiety.

She began to feel more and more detached from the trio as they became more and more engrossed in their plans. And resentment grew inside her. After everything she had done for Harry in the past five or six months, after all the comfort and support she had given without asking anything in return, she was now being ignored at the very moment he would be needing more help than ever. She avoided them all. Days, then weeks passed without her talking to Harry.

A few days before the end of term, Ginny was reading in the library when Hermione appeared and sat down next to her.

"How are you doing?" Hermione asked. "We haven't seen much of you lately."

Ginny looked at her, and felt the resentment rising. She turned back to her book. "I'm fine," she said testily. "Why do you ask?"

"Because you're not fine. Right now you look really angry. You've been staying away from us. And something's happening that I don't think you've noticed."

"And what is that?"

"Harry," Hermione said simply.

Ginny slammed the book shut. "Is Harry upset again? Then why doesn't he come talk to me? Then he can tell me again that he's sorry, that he can't help it, that he's scared, that he doesn't want to fight, and then he'll feel better and off you'll go, and I'll be left wondering if you're all dead or alive." She stood up. "No thanks, Hermione, not this time. Go find your you–know–what, that he didn't want to tell me about, and if you all come back in one piece I'll bake you a cake." She glared at Hermione and then at the students sitting nearby who were staring at her.

Hermione also stood up and grabbed Ginny's arm. "Ginny Weasley, you are wrong!" she said angrily. She saw Madam Pince stalking toward them down an aisle. "Come with me!" she hissed at Ginny.

She yanked Ginny away and dragged her out of the library. Ginny protested, but only half–heartedly; it actually felt good to be noticed by Hermione again, even if it meant being hauled by her through the corridors of Hogwarts. Hermione pulled her into an empty classroom, slammed the door shut, and turned on her.

"No one has left you out," she began without ceremony. "You have excluded yourself. Harry has been asking why you don't talk to us anymore. His spells are going badly again. He thinks you're mad at him."

"And he's right!" Ginny shouted, stamping her foot. "How many times do I have to go through this? Why didn't he come here himself? Why is he sending you to do it?"

"No one sent me. And you're right, he should have talked to you himself. But do you both have to act like bloody fools?"

"I don't think I'm acting like a fool," Ginny said coldly. "I can't go with you, Harry is afraid of me, and I'm the one who'll be left alone at the end of it all."

She turned and walked to the teacher's desk; it was covered with dozens of teacups from a first–year Transfiguration class. She turned to face Hermione. "I think I'm acting pretty rationally."

"Ginny, no, Harry's not afraid of you. When you pull away from him, he doesn't want to pull you back, which makes sense because he thinks you and he can't be together, he thinks it's too dangerous. Maybe it doesn't make sense and maybe he's wrong, but he really needs you."

Ginny's anger had passed, but not her frustration. "You know, he's always telling me how hard it is for him, and he's right, and everyone sees that. But who sees how hard it is for me? Hermione, I have never wished that I didn't want him, but I always wish that —"

There was a shout from the hallway. "Hermione! Where are you?" It was Ron. They heard doors banging, then Ron burst in.

"Thank God I found you!" He was out of breath and shaken. "Harry's gone!"

Ginny felt a momentary blackness, and leaned on a desk. "What do you mean, gone?" she demanded. "How could he be gone?"

"His broomstick's gone. I thought he might be down at the pitch, but he's not there."

Ginny tried to keep calm. "He could be anyplace," she said. "Is anything else missing? What about his dad's cloak?"

Ron nodded, trepidation in his eyes. "It's not there. I checked his trunk. I tell you, he's gone."

Ginny sat in a chair and put her head in her hands.

Hermione was wringing her hands. "Ginny, I'm sorry. I didn't know this would happen." She sat down next to her. "I can't believe it. Why would he do this?"

Ginny took a deep breath; she began to feel calmer. "Well, at least we know where he went. Penzance in Cornwall."

"Maybe," Ron said uncertainly. "He could go to Grimmauld Place, or the Dursley's, or Godric's Hollow."

Hermione shook her head. "No, I think Ginny's right. He was becoming more and more impatient. I think he'll go straight to the graveyard." She grimaced. "I mean, to find Merope's grave."

"Then we should tell the Order!" Ginny exclaimed. She stood up. "We have to do something!"

"At least we have to tell McGonagall," Hermione said. "She needs to know that one of her students is missing."

They hurried up the stairs to the Headmistress's office. As they stood blankly before the stone gargoyle wondering what the password was, Ginny also wondered to herself why she was not more upset. Why was she not frantic for Harry's safety?

Someone came up behind them and spoke. "Whenever I see any members of this particular coterie of students near my office, it usually means trouble." They turned, and Professor McGonagall gazed at them with arched eyebrows.

"Professor!" Hermione exclaimed. "Something's happened! We need to talk to you!"

"Can it wait until we're inside my office?" Without waiting for an answer she turned to the gargoyle. "Toss the caber!" she said, and it sprang aside. She led them up the spiral staircase into her office and sat down behind her desk; she looked them over. "Well?"

"Harry's left the school," Ginny said. "His broomstick and his Invisibility Cloak are gone."

McGonagall frowned. "And where did he go?"

Ginny hesitated. "We–we're not sure, but we think he went into Cornwall."

This surprised the Headmistress. "Why would he go there? I was not aware that he knew anyone in that part of the country."

Ginny looked at the other two. Ron was gritting his teeth, and he gave her a small shake of his head. Hermione saw it. "What do _you_ think, Ginny?" she said in a low voice. "I think yes."

"I think no!" Ron snapped. "Harry decides who knows."

"I can't help you, Mr. Weasley," McGonagall declared, "unless you tell me what on earth is going on. I let you re–open the Chamber of Secrets because Mr. Potter told me that Tom Riddle may have left something there. Did he also leave something in Cornwall?"

"There may be a Horcrux there," Ginny blurted. Ron swore.

McGonagall stood up abruptly and leaned forward, her hands on the desk. She fixed Ginny with a hard stare. "Keep your voice down!" she said sharply, and glanced at the nearby portraits. "What do you know about Horcruxes? And sit, all of you!"

"Harry learned about them from Professor Dumbledore last year," Hermione explained as they sat in the chairs that appeared behind them. "He gave Harry permission to tell us."

"All of you?" McGonagall said skeptically, and glanced at Ginny.

"Harry told me later," Ginny said. "The point is, I know now. And we think that Harry's looking for one in Cornwall, in a graveyard somewhere near a town called Penzance."

McGonagall sat back down but said nothing. Ginny did not want to look at Ron, so she kept her eyes fixed on the Professor.

Finally the Headmistress spoke. "This is not a simple situation. Mr. Potter is of age, and he is entitled to go wherever he wants. And, discounting the Dursleys, he has no family to be informed. I assume you will tell your parents," she looked at Ginny and Ron, "but they have no guardianship over him." She frowned. "However, even if I were not bound by the Order of the Phoenix, I would let his friends know what he has done. As it is, I _am_ bound by the Order to inform them of anything that might even remotely involve Lord Voldemort, or, it may surprise you to know, Harry Potter."

"So you will tell them? When?" Ginny asked; that would be one less burden on them.

McGonagall glanced back at a large picture frame, empty except for an ornate, high–backed chair. "They probably already know." She smiled briefly. "I believe that Professor Dumbledore was listening to us and left only a few moments ago. He has a habit, annoying at times, of lurking in the background of his portrait. He doesn't want to distract people, he says." Ginny, Ron, and Hermione gaped at the portrait; they had not noticed anything.

The Headmistress looked at them sternly. "I must make a serious request of you two, Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger, and an order to you, Miss Weasley. I do not want any of you to leave the school until the holiday break begins. I want you to promise me that."

They all nodded and murmured their assent, although Ron seemed to do it reluctantly.

"Very well." McGonagall stood. "I know that you will keep silent about this as far as other students are concerned. Good day."

They did not speak on their way back to Gryffindor Tower. When they arrived, Ginny went straight up to her room. She wanted to be alone and sort through her very confused feelings.

She knelt down by her cage of Pygmy Puffs and took one out. She sat on her bed and stroked its soft, downy fur; it made a twittering noise each time she caressed it. Harry had laughed when she told him last summer that she had got more Puffs at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. "Cute," he had said. Now Harry had disappeared.

Ginny wondered why she wasn't in a frenzy. She leaned back against her pillow and thought, and finally it came to her. Harry's running off meant that a resolution would come. His disappearance made her even more a part of his small circle of friends than she had been when they were together last year; Hermione and Ron had even deferred to her when they were talking to McGonagall. If Harry pushed her away now, that would be the end of it. But if he did not, that would mean the beginning of everything. She would have him or she would not. The uncertainty would end.

She heaved a sigh. The Pygmy Puff chirped, and Ginny realized that she was squeezing the poor creature. She laughed and cuddled it, then got up and put it in its cage and went back to her bed. Soon she would be going home for the Christmas holiday; she would be with her family and their best friends. She would sleep in her own room, and maybe the sun would rise through the window and she could watch her shadow, with a golden halo, climb down the wall. If she had to wait for Harry, at least she would be waiting at home.

The overcast sky was growing dark when Ginny awoke. She had dozed off and slept through the afternoon. She had no idea what time it was, but she was hungry. When she went downstairs, the common room was almost empty, and she thought it must be dinnertime. But at that moment the portrait hole opened and Ron and Hermione stepped inside. They saw her and stopped; Ginny thought they looked nervous.

"Ginny, you're here!" Hermione exclaimed. "I peeked in your room but you were asleep."

"I was tired. What time is it? Did dinner start?"

"We don't have time." Hermione took her arm and pulled her to the fireplace. "We need to talk. Ron and I have decided to go find Harry."

"What!" Ginny could not believe what she had heard. "You can't! You promised McGonagall you would stay here! What will I do?" She had a sinking feeling that everything she had figured out a few hours ago was now wreckage. Once again she would be the odd–girl out, unnecessary and ignorant of everything that Harry was doing. She began to lose her composure.

"Ginny," Hermione said, "we weren't going to leave without talking to you. Listen to us, please."

"What difference does it make? You'll do what you want, so just do it. I'll go home and then I'll come back to school and then... I don't know." She was crying. Ron put his arms around her and pulled her to him; she wept on his shoulder. "Ron, please don't do this. Don't leave me alone."

"Listen to me, Ginny," Ron said. "I know this is really bad for you, but I can't leave Harry out there by himself. Maybe we'll even find the Horcrux. But the main thing is, if something happened to him and I hadn't tried to help, I could never forgive myself."

"Wh–what about M–McGonagall?" Ginny tried to get herself under control, but she didn't let go of Ron.

"We still have to talk to her," Hermione said. "But we're going after Harry, no matter what she says."

Ginny sat down. As soon as Ron had started to speak, she knew what he would say. She was surprised at herself for not realizing sooner that there was no way on earth Ron would not go looking for Harry. "I understand," she said reluctantly. "I guess I would do the same thing."

Ron took her hands and hauled her back out of the chair and hugged her. "Ginny, it'll be all right. We'll keep in touch somehow and we'll bring him back safe, I promise."

"I don't see how you can promise that, so don't even say it."

"I'm gonna say it anyway, because I know it's true."

Ginny shrugged. "Fine. I can't do anything about any of it." She turned to leave. "I did miss lunch and I don't want to miss dinner."

Somehow word had got out that Harry had left the castle grounds. Ginny, Ron, and Hermione were pelted with questions as soon as they entered the Great Hall. Ginny ignored them. She had already decided what she was going to do, and was making plans in her mind. The holiday began in two days, so she would tell her parents that she was coming home early. If they had heard about Harry's disappearance — which was probable — then they would agree completely. She wondered what their reaction would be to Ron's taking off after Harry, but that was not her problem.

When dinner ended, Hermione asked, half–heartedly, if she wanted to go see the Headmistress with them. Ginny had no interest in that, but told Hermione that she wanted to talk to her before they left.

"Oh, we won't be leaving until morning," Hermione said. "We found out from Elspeth about her village and her house, so we'll Apparate there. But we don't want to turn up on her father's doorstep in the dark."

"Why don't you fly?" Ginny asked.

"Too cold. And we'd have to fly above the mist. We could get lost too easily."

"That's how Harry went. He probably got cold."

Hermione said nothing.

Professor McGonagall was walking out the door of the Great Hall, and Ron watched her. "Come on." He pulled Hermione from Ginny. "We'll miss her." They hurried away, leaving Ginny to fend off Neville and Luna, who had just walked up.

"I don't know where Harry went," Ginny insisted. "Yes, it probably has something to do with Voldemort, but I don't know what."

"I still have my coin." Neville showed her his fake Galleon that Hermione had made two years ago. "I'm ready."

"Me, too, of course," said Luna. She took the coin from Neville and held it up to the light. "It's slightly different from mine. It has Armando Dippet on the obverse, but mine has Nicholas Flamel. I wonder if that matters?"

"It hasn't so far," Ginny smiled. "I have to go. I fell asleep this afternoon and I'm way behind in a bunch of classes." She waved to them and hurried out the door before anyone else could buttonhole her.

She waited in the common room for Hermione and Ron. She didn't bother trying to study; she knew she would not be able to concentrate. Besides, if she was going home tomorrow, what difference did it make? She sat in front of the fireplace, staring into the crackling flames and wondering where Harry was.

A half–hour later Hermione and Ron arrived; they both looked abashed. For a moment Ginny's heart leapt, but as soon as Ron spoke she knew that their decision to leave still stood.

"Glad that's over with," he said as he fell into a chair. "She can really be unpleasant when she wants to."

"So can you," Hermione muttered. "It's a wonder she didn't throw us out of the castle."

"I don't care," Ron said belligerently. "I'd like to leave tonight. Okay, okay! I know we can't. I'm just telling you how I feel."

Hermione looked at Ginny. "McGonagall was furious, but there's really nothing she can do about it. So we're off, first thing in the morning."

Ginny looked into the fire again. "What if he's not at the graveyard?" she asked. "What will you do then?"

"He has to go there sometime," Hermione replied. "The Order is looking for him everywhere, including Penzance. Dumbledore showed up in his portrait and said that Harry had been at Grimmauld Place, but left and no one knows where he is now."

Ginny felt a tightening in her stomach. "Was Dumbledore... upset?"

"No. He was his usual calm self."

"Cracked some jokes, actually," Ron chipped in. "It really annoyed McGonagall," he chuckled.

Ginny looked at him sourly; Ron was starting to annoy _her_. "Well, I guess Dumbledore would know if anything had happened to Harry."

They all stared at the fire. "I'm going home early," Ginny announced.

Ron looked surprised, but Hermione nodded. "That's good," she said. "Everyone will be there. You won't be alone."

"No, I won't be alone. I'm sending Mum and Dad an owl. Should I tell them that you won't be home for Christmas?" she asked Ron.

He looked horrified. "No, don't say that! We _will_ be home! And so will Harry!"

Ginny got up without a word, and walked out of the common room. She went to the owlery and sent her message. She waited there, and within an hour her mother had answered. She told Ginny to go to Professor McGonagall as soon as she was ready, and there would be a Portkey waiting in the Headmistress's office.

It took Ginny only a moment to decide to leave immediately. There was absolutely no reason for her to stay. She ran back to Gryffindor Tower, but Ron and Hermione were not in the common room. She dashed upstairs and threw the belongings that she would need into her trunk; it and the cage of Pygmy Puffs would be delivered later. She took her wand and a heavy cloak, glanced around the room, and left.

The password still worked, and she knocked on McGonagall's door and entered the office. The Headmistress was at her desk writing out a parchment. Ginny eyed a rusty, battered, round metal object lying on the desk.

"I've been told it's called a hubcap by Muggles," the Professor explained. "I don't have the slightest idea what they use it for. Someone actually fished it out of the lake a few days ago."

Ginny looked at it dubiously. "It will work, won't it?"

"Of course it will," McGonagall snapped. "Enough now. I didn't expect you so soon, and I have business to attend to, so please prepare yourself." She touched the object with her wand. "_Portus!_."

Ginny put her hand on the Portkey, and in a few heartbeats she was in the kitchen of the Burrow. She looked around and cried out in delight. Seated at the table were her parents, the twins, Bill, Fleur, Remus Lupin, and Nymphadora Tonks. Everyone jumped up when she appeared, and her mother shrieked and grabbed her.

"Oh, Ginny, how wonderful, how wonderful! Is everything well? I mean, are you?"

Ginny hugged her mother and held her tightly. "No, Mum," she whispered. "I'm not, but don't ask me now."

The others gathered around and took turns hugging her. Tonks held her at arms length and appraised her, but said nothing.

Dinner was in progress, and Mrs. Weasley quickly set another place. Ginny protested that she had already eaten, but her mother ignored her. Ginny stood for a moment; she was having trouble realizing where she was, and whom she was with. Her happiness was overwhelming. Whomever she looked at, smiled or laughed; she knew that she was wearing the biggest grin of her life. Harry's problems, Horcruxes, graveyards — nothing mattered. She basked in the cheer of her family and the warmth of her home.

No one mentioned Harry or his disappearance. Fred and George were regaling the company with stories about the shop. Tonks was having trouble eating because she was laughing at them so much, and also because she was holding hands with Remus with her right hand and trying to eat with her left. Fleur was leaning on Bill's shoulder. Molly was encouraging the twins to keep telling their stories, but wasn't listening herself; she was too busy refilling everyone's plate.

People began asking Ginny about Hogwarts. They had heard that many fewer students were at the school this year, and they wanted to know how that affected everything. They all knew about the Quidditch tournament with Chudley; Bill and Fleur had been at the match in November. Ginny described how frustrated the whole team felt.

"But don't worry," she proclaimed. "We'll show up next time, and things will be different, I promise you that."

"'Arry would 'ave caught zat Snitch, but zeir Keeper cheated," Fleur said, and there was immediate silence. "Oh." She looked around the table. "Maybe I shouldn't 'ave said zat. Ginny, I'm sorry."

Ginny shook her head and kept eating her dessert, a blueberry tart doused in clotted cream. "You're right, so don't be sorry," she mumbled. With her mouth full of fruit, crust, sugar, and cream, nothing could bother or upset her.

"We looked for you and Ron after the match," Bill said, "but one of your teammates — it was that little girl who played Chaser — she told us you had gone up to Gryffindor."

"Elspeth. She's sweet." Ginny smiled.

Mr. Weasley belched discreetly. "Is that Elspeth Pendragon?" he asked. "Her father used to work in the Ministry, I think in the Office of Magical Games and Sports."

"That's her. Mum, this was so good," Ginny went on before anyone could ask another question about Elspeth. She got up and went to her mother and put her arms around her. "It's so good to be home again."

Later in the evening, Ginny sat on the hearth, gazing into the fireplace, her arms around her knees. Most of the others had gone to bed; only Remus and Tonks lingered. Ginny rocked back and forth, feeling the warmth of the flames. Tonks came and sat next to her.

"It's good to see you like this," she said. "The last time I saw you, we were taking Harry back to Hogwarts after he fell off his broom."

Ginny looked up in surprise. "Do I really look good? I guess coming home makes up for lots of other things."

Tonks stroked Ginny's hair; the firelight reflected in it like embedded embers. "You'll be fine."

Ginny squeezed Tonks's hand. "It's just so good to be here. The last couple of weeks were awful, and today... everything that happened today was worse. But right now everything is perfect." She smiled.

Ginny slept late the next morning, and the sun was well up and hidden behind the mist when she got out of bed. She told herself that tomorrow she would wake up early and watch it rise. Her trunk and the cage of Pygmy Puffs were in her room. When she got dressed, she put on her dragon–hide boots just for the pleasure of it. The rest of the day was filled with good food and good company.

Nobody talked to her about Harry, but she knew that they were discussing him when she was not around. Whispered conversations stopped when she entered a room, and everyone immediately began talking about the dementors mist, or Ministry politics, or the falling exchange rate for Galleons that the war was causing. But there had been no word yet of Harry or Ron or Hermione, and Ginny saw that the others, especially her parents, were very worried.

The next day was Christmas Eve. Ginny did wake up early, and she watched the sunrise from her window. The twins brought in a Christmas tree they had magically felled in the woods nearby, and everyone joined in the decorating. But Ginny began to think about last Christmas, when she had started to wonder if Harry was becoming interested in her. She felt herself slipping into a worse mood. Finally, in the middle of the afternoon, she quit the tree trimming party and went up to her room. She had just sat down on her bed with a Pygmy Puff in her hand, when she heard the pop of someone Apparating. She looked out the window and saw Alastor Moody limping to the door. Her heart began to pound with fear. She heard loud voices. Someone came to the bottom of the stairs. "Ginny!" her mother called. "Come here! Quickly!"

She ran to the door, flung it open, and rushed downstairs. Everyone was in the kitchen, and the room fell silent when she appeared on the stairs. Mad–Eye stood next to her mother; his magical eye followed her as she came down. He walked over to her, his artificial leg clunking on the wooden floor. Ginny held onto the newel post and looked fearfully into his scarred, disfigured face.

"Is it Harry?" She could barely speak.

He nodded. "He's hurt, but he'll be here soon. Your brother and Granger, too. They're all right."

"How— how badly?" Ginny's voice trembled.

"Well, they got him, but not as bad as they got me once." He touched the part of his nose that was missing. "He got surprised by a planted jinx. But, he had a message. He asked me to tell it to you."

Ginny was shaking. Tonks, who was standing next to her, held her arm. "What did he want to tell me?"

Moody looked around. "He wanted me to say it in front of your family." He turned back to Ginny. "Is that all right with you, Miss Weasley?"

"Of course. Please, tell me!"

Mad–Eye cleared his throat. His face turned uncharacteristically pink and his eye whirled like a top; his growl became even gruffer. "Harry Potter said, 'We could have had ages... months... years. And we will when I come home.'"


	10. Immortal Mother

**Chapter Ten**

**Immortal Mother**

Harry flew as low as he could over the dementors mist. He had gone higher after he took off from the lane outside Hogwarts, but it was much colder and his hands had quickly become numb, so he had dropped closer to the ground. Now, wearing his heaviest traveling cloak under his Invisibility cloak, he was warm enough. He had tried to Disillusion himself, but either that charm could not be done on oneself, or he had again lost his ability to do complicated magic. He put that possibility out of his mind, and told himself that as long as he had his father's cloak he did not need the charm.

The mist obscured landmarks, so whenever he thought he might be straying from a southerly bearing, he tapped the Firebolt with his wand and spoke "_Austra cardinalis_," a spell he had discovered during those long hours alone in the library. He also had pored over a Muggle atlas of England, as well as Muggle newspapers and magazines from the restricted section. He familiarized himself with the location of towns and villages in Cornwall and neighborhoods in London, and he now knew exactly where Grimmauld Place and the entrance to the Ministry of Magic were. He had figured out the latter by tracing the route of the Underground line he had taken two years ago with Arthur Weasley.

As Harry neared London, tall buildings began to appear above the dementors mist, and the mist itself became thinner. Soon only wisps of fog lingered near the ground. He looped around the city, and it did not take him long to find the bedraggled park on Grimmauld Place across from number twelve. There were only a few Muggles sitting on benches in the cold weather, and to Harry's eye they looked like types who would mind their own business because they would want the courtesy returned. Anyway, he was wearing the cloak.

He landed in the empty street, and number twelve appeared. He placed his hand on the front door and, as he expected, it opened. He stepped inside and closed the door. He put his hand back on it and heard the locks and latches click into place.

He removed the Invisibility cloak and peered into the gloom. The house smelled musty and moldy. The portrait of Sirius's mother was covered, and he could hear snoring behind the drapes. He went carefully past the troll's–leg umbrella stand and the heads of the house–elves mounted on the wall, and descended the narrow stairs to the basement. In the light of his wand, he found what he had been hoping for. A wooden bowl sat on the long table, filled with fruit and loaves of bread that Sirius had put out and never come back to. He tested it with his wand. A preservative charm was protecting it, and everything was as fresh as the day Sirius had put it there.

He went to the cupboard near the pantry where Kreacher's disgusting den was. Wishing he could think of a different way to hide his broomstick, he bent down and wrapped it in rags that were slightly less filthy than the others, put it behind the boiler, and covered it with the foulest shreds of cloth he could find. Satisfied that the Firebolt would not be found, Harry went to the sink, washed his hands, and drank a long draft of the charmed water flowing from the spigot. With his pockets bulging with food, he went up to Sirius's room, but hesitated before opening the door; he was not looking forward to this.

Inside was a mess. Sirius had probably been in a frenzy the night Snape had reported to the Order that Harry and his friends were at the Ministry. Closets and wardrobe drawers were standing open, and clothes were strewn on the bed and floor. Harry walked to a dresser, but as he was opening the top drawer, he stopped. Two photographs in silver frames sat on the dresser. One was the same Order of the Phoenix photo that Mad–Eye Moody had shown him. Harry looked at his parents and they waved to him. He gave a small wave back, and put the photo down.

The other one was of himself. He recognized the pavilion in the background as the one in which he had waited for the first task of the Tri–Wizard Tournament. He didn't remember having the photo taken, but the Harry in the photo had a broad grin on his face, so it must have been after the task. He put that photograph down, also.

He poked around in the top drawer, and found a large wad of Muggle money under a pile of unmatched socks. He flipped through it, and realized, with a smile, that something in his Muggle upbringing was actually turning out to be useful: he could count their money. The amount was large enough that he would not have to sell any of the gold Galleons he had brought with him. It would make things much simpler.

He pocketed the money and started to leave. But at the door, as he turned to look over Sirius's room one last time, his eye fell on the photographs. He went back and put them in his cloak pocket. He left the room and went downstairs, tiptoed past the portrait, opened the front door, and walked outside. As soon as he closed the door, the house vanished.

Well stocked with funds and food, Harry walked to the Underground station and boarded a train for central London. There was a map mounted on the wall of the car, and it confirmed what he had memorized in the library at Hogwarts. Since he had to sleep somewhere tonight, he had decided that the best way to avoid discovery was to stay near the Ministry but not too near, in a locale that he was at least vaguely familiar with. He got off at the station nearest the public entrance to the Ministry of Magic, and walked past the street where the broken–down phone box stood. It was not the best neighborhood — a little seedy around the edges — but two blocks farther on Harry spotted a small hotel down a cross road. It did not appear totally run down, so he headed toward it and went inside. The furniture in the lobby was worn and the carpet threadbare, but it seemed clean. The clerk looked at him suspiciously.

"I'd like a room for the night." Harry said, trying to sound self–assured.

The clerk frowned; he was a middle–aged Muggle with thick eyeglasses and bad breath. "No bags?" he asked.

"What? Oh, no. I'll be getting them later." It hadn't occurred to him that luggage would be an issue; at Hogwarts the house–elves took care of things like that.

"How old are you?" the clerk asked dubiously.

"Nineteen."

"Nineteen? You don't look nineteen."

"I've aged gracefully." Harry was becoming annoyed. He didn't want problems with Muggles, especially one that was starting to remind him of Uncle Vernon. He put one of Sirius's larger bills on the counter. "Can I have a room, please?"

The man took the money and handed Harry a key. "Room thirty–seven, two flights up on your left. And keep your door locked. I don't want any trouble."

"Don't worry about me," Harry told him. "I can take care of myself. And you owe me change." The clerk grunted and handed Harry his change. Harry fingered his wand inside his cloak, and the man suddenly began scratching his nose vigorously.

Harry climbed the stairs to his room. He sealed the door behind him with a _Colloportus_ spell, and settled down on the lumpy bed to think. So far his plan was working. He had got out of Hogwarts and down to London undetected. The Order would start looking for him at twelve Grimmauld Place, and hopefully they would assume that he had gone from there straight to Penzance. By not finding him at the graveyard immediately, maybe they would think that he had gone someplace else instead. At least if his pursuers got there first and were there when he arrived, he would be able to spy them out, and wait until after they left. It wasn't a perfect plan, but it gave him the chance of destroying the Horcrux without putting his friends in danger.

Of course, there was the strong possibility that one person alone would not be able to destroy it, just as Dumbledore had not been able to retrieve the locket in the cave without Harry's help. Then he would have no choice but to fetch someone else and bring them back to the graveyard. But until he knew for certain that he could not do it alone, he would not drag Hermione or Ron or anyone else into it.

The face of "anyone else" floated into his mind, as it always did when he was alone with thoughts like these. He did not want Ginny in his head, but her image came often and persistently. Even when he tried thinking about unpleasant things, her face appeared and pushed every bad thought away. He wished — yet did not wish — that she would leave him alone.

He had let down his guard and told her about the Horcruxes, but he had to admit that some good had come of that mistake. Ginny had spent a lot more time with him afterwards, and he liked that. He liked looking at her; he liked listening to her. When she became aloof during the last few weeks, he missed her. But he had to protect her. If she — or Ron or Hermione — died because of him, he did not know how he could go on living himself.

Harry tried to distract himself with the photograph of the Order of the Phoenix, but it only deepened his morbid mood, and he finally broke down and turned on the television. He had no idea what he was watching, but at least it diverted his thoughts. The afternoon passed in utter boredom, and finally, when it grew dark, he slept.

When he checked out the next morning, a different clerk was behind the counter, a younger man who had obviously been told about Harry. He looked at him curiously as Harry dropped off his room key. "The mattress was lumpy but I smoothed it out for you," Harry couldn't resist telling him. The man just stared. "Have a nice day," Harry said as he walked out.

He took the Underground back to Grimmauld Place, and slipped on his Invisibility cloak before numbers eleven and thirteen came in sight. He sat down in the park, and waited. After an hour of shivering in the chilly breeze, he had seen nobody come or go, so he walked up to number twelve. When it appeared, he opened the front door and once again there was only stillness inside. Sirius's mother was stirring behind her drapes, but Harry could hear nothing else; the house was deserted.

Nevertheless, he didn't want to linger and take a chance on being discovered. He hurried to the basement without bothering to remove his cloak, and retrieved his Firebolt. Back in the front hallway he paused. "Goodbye, Mrs. Black, and thank you very much!" he called loudly. Her shrieks of surprise and rage were cut off when he shut the door behind him.

Harry mounted his Firebolt and kicked off. Now he flew more or less southwest, which he would do until he reached the coast. If the dementors mist was too thick and obscured the ground, he would have to land frequently to get his bearings; there was no helping that. But his luck held. The mist was thin all across the southern part of the country. When he saw the coastline, he landed near a small village and approached a woman filling her automobile at a petrol station. He found that he had been on a true course, and was only about twenty miles from Penzance. He flew on, and in a few minutes he reached his destination.

In one of the Muggle magazines in the library, he had seen an advertisement for a seasonal rental cottage near Penzance. It was under a cliff along the shore of the Atlantic Ocean. On the plain above the cliff stood an old stone castle, an ancient ruin and a local attraction. The cottage was used by tourists who came into the area to visit the castle and the surrounding countryside. Harry circled it; he saw no one and there were no automobiles parked nearby. He landed behind the cottage, and cautiously approached. He peered through a window, and saw a small kitchen with bed sheets covering the table, chairs, and counter–tops. The lock on the back door opened with "_Alohomora"_ and Harry was inside.

He tried not to disturb anything, and he did not turn on any lights. He settled down on a sofa in the parlor, ate some bread from twelve Grimmauld Place, and once again waited.

And once again Ginny invaded his thoughts. He got up and paced back and forth, trying to think of anything else: his plans for the graveyard; what he would do when — or if — he returned to Hogwarts; what he would do after — or if — he finished the school year. But every line of thought led to Ginny. He gave up and sat back down.

The inevitable conclusion was that the Ginny in his brain would never go away. He had tried walking away from her; immersing himself in schoolwork; practicing Quidditch for hours on end with Ron; he had ignored her, talked to her, kept her in his confidence, and excluded her from his confidence. But he might as well have a picture of her attached to the inside of his eyeglasses with Spellotape; her face was always in front of him.

It was starting to get dark outside, which Harry was thankful for; these thoughts were wrecking his composure and resolve. He thought about the task in front of him and about what had happened to Dumbledore the two times he had confronted a Horcrux, and suddenly Harry found himself standing with his Firebolt in one hand and his other hand on the door handle. Ginny was only a few hours away, maybe sitting in the common room with Ron and Hermione, probably wondering what had happened to him. He leaned his head on the door frame, trying to overcome the urge to fly back to Hogwarts and... and what? The Horcrux would still be here, in a graveyard that was only a mile or two away from where he stood. Voldemort would still be out there, waiting for a chance to attack him. And Ginny would be in mortal peril until either Voldemort or Harry was dead.

He sat back down on the sofa and shut his mind to any thought but the Horcrux and the last part of his plan. His resolve gradually returned, and finally full darkness fell and he went outside. The graveyard was inland from this place, near a tiny village called Tregavarah. He would Apparate there, so that he would not have to worry about his broom while he was looking for the grave or in case something went wrong.

He folded his Invisibility cloak and put it in a pocket inside his robes, pictured his destination as best he could, felt a brief inside–out sensation, and found himself in front of the open gates of a cemetery. He listened carefully for several minutes, but heard nothing. He lit his wand, walked through the gates, and looked around.

It was a well–tended cemetery; the grass was neatly trimmed and many of the graves had fresh flowers placed on them. He wandered around looking at the headstones. After fifteen minutes he found the grave of Elspeth's mother. The simple headstone read,

_Eleanor Guelwan Pendragon_

_1953 – 1986_

Harry wondered how a little girl visiting her mother's grave in this peaceful corner of the world would have provoked an attack like the one she had described.

There wasn't much nearby, only more well–kept graves. He increased the glow of his wand and started walking in widening circles around Eleanor Pendragon's grave.

He finally saw it, set somewhat apart, as if people had tried to keep their loved ones separated from it. The grass around it was as neat as in the rest of the cemetery, but the stone was different — taller and thinner — and there was no name or dates on it, only:

_MG_

_Immortal Mother_

Harry stared. The sentiment was remarkably moving, and it was incongruous that the author of those words could have become the essence of total evil.

Harry moved cautiously around the grave. Nothing but other graves were nearby, except for a few gnarled old shrubs about ten yards away. There were three of them, spaced evenly around Merope's grave, which was in the center of the triangle they formed. They did not look right. With his wand at the ready, he approached one. It looked like an ordinary bush, except that Harry had seen no others like it in the graveyard. He pushed it with his boot. Nothing happened. He backed away and whispered, _"Rosarium!"_ Nothing happened, and Harry smiled grimly; the plant was protected by magic. Or, he thought even more grimly, his own magic was not working.

He shook off that thought and went back to the grave. He carefully put his hand on the headstone, but again nothing happened. He stepped on the grave; the earth was soft, and gave slightly beneath his weight, but nothing happened. He scuffed the ground next to the headstone with his heel.

A bolt of red flame shot from one of the bushes and struck Harry's heel. He cried out and dropped his wand. Another spell hit him in the back, and he screamed and fell to the ground. A green flame shot over his head, missing him by inches. He crawled along the ground, not knowing where he was going, and his head smashed into the headstone, just as another red bolt hit him in the side. He cried out again, as more spells struck him. His whole body was burning, and the world began to swim before his eyes. He could not feel his right foot; by the pain coming from it, he thought it might have been blasted away.

The firing suddenly stopped. Harry could not move, but he heard voices. He moaned and looked up. Two dark, massive figures stood over him, and others were behind them; they were pointing their wands at him. Their forms and everything else wavered in his eyesight, and then the pain overwhelmed him and he passed out.

When Harry regained consciousness he was lying on his back. Sound was the first thing to come to him, and he heard a deep voice call out, "He's coming around." Next came pain; his foot felt like it was being crushed in a vise, and his entire body ached as though someone had pounded it with a hammer. Someone moaned, and he realized it was himself. Finally vision started to return, and he saw a face bending over him. But he could not focus, and he didn't recognize it.

Someone else touched him, and he turned his head. The movement made him dizzy, and everything went black for a moment. When his head cleared, he forced his eyes open, and even though he still could not focus, he recognized Ron leaning over him. Hermione was next to Ron, and when she saw his open eyes she stroked his face.

"I thought I left you two at school," Harry croaked. Then he jerked around and tried to lift his head; he put it down when, again, he almost blacked out.

"Easy, Harry." Ron put his hand on Harry's chest. "Don't move. You're hurt."

"Where's Ginny? She didn't come, too, did she?" Harry looked up at Ron fearfully.

Ron glanced at Hermione, who was wiping Harry's forehead with her hand. "No, mate. She went home. She's at the Burrow."

Harry closed his eyes and felt a flood of relief, and then shame. Ron and Hermione were here, somehow. How had he been so foolish as to try this without them? And what would Ginny think, what would she feel? He had run away from her again, and this time he had almost got himself killed. It was Harry Potter who needed protection, not Ginny Weasley. He was an idiot.

"I'm an idiot," he whispered.

"What?" Ron wasn't sure he heard Harry right.

"Nothing." Harry reached up and gripped Ron's arm. "It's here, Ron, It's in the grave. We can get it out!" He slumped back; the simple movement had made his head spin.

Ron looked across Harry, and Harry turned his head slowly. His vision was clearing, and he saw three men standing next to him: Kingsley Shacklebolt, Alastor Moody, and a short, wiry man who looked vaguely familiar. Harry strained his foggy memory, but could not place him.

Kingsley glanced at the man. "This is Edward Pendragon, Harry. Elspeth's father."

The man squatted down next to Harry and said, "Everyone else has had the sense to stay away from that grave ever since Elspeth was hurt. Either you have no sense, Harry Potter, or you were looking for something very important."

The ache in Harry's head was starting to diminish, although the rest of his body was sore in a dozen places and his foot was still burning. He took Ron's arm again and, with his and Hermione's help, slowly raised himself to a sitting position. "We have to open the grave," he said.

"Potter, you're all smashed up," Mad–Eye growled. "Nobody's doing anything but getting you to St. Mungo's as soon as you can travel."

"No!" Harry tried to stand up, but Ron and Hermione pushed him down.

"Harry, you can't do anything now." Hermione's face was streaked with tears. "Please, stay still."

Harry looked at Moody. "How did you get the jinxes to stop? You must have done something to get them to stop."

"Those bushes are dead," Moody answered, and his magical eye turned back to look at the grave and the triangle of bushes; Harry noticed for the first time that he had been moved outside the triangle. "They won't hurt anyone again. But I repeat, you are going straight to hospital, and soon."

Harry looked at Kingsley. "I watched you lift that boulder and move it off the train track last spring. How hard could it be to dig up a grave? We don't need shovels."

"Not hard at all, Harry," Kingsley replied. "And we know what you're looking for, but we can't do it right now, like Alastor says."

"Why not? And how do you know about the... " He looked at Ron. "How do they know?"

"We went to McGonagall when you disappeared," Ron answered. "She wanted to know why you had left, of course, and Ginny told her. When we got here, Hermione and I told Kingsley and Mad–Eye everything."

Harry stared at him. Now he owed Ginny thanks, as well as another apology. "An idiot," he murmured.

"Who is?" Ron was taken aback.

"Not you. Me."

"Huh?"

Harry turned back to Mad–Eye. "Why not right now?" he demanded. "We have an ex–Auror and an Auror here, plus a witch who's the smartest of her age. You know what's in that grave, so why isn't it worth a try to destroy it right now. Then there would only be two left."

"What's he talking about?" Edward Pendragon asked Kingsley. "Two of what?"

Kingsley lowered his voice. "Edward, you have to give us your word not to reveal this to anyone, and I mean anyone. The war could be lost if the wrong people hear about it."

Pendragon looked startled. "I'm not sure I want to know."

"You already know plenty." Kingsley gave Harry a wry smile. "You might as well know the rest." He looked at Moody, who nodded.

"There's a Horcrux in that grave," Kingsley said, and Pendragon's eyes bulged. "It was created and put there by Lord Voldemort. He made five others, also, we believe, or at least Albus Dumbledore believed. Two have definitely been destroyed, and another one probably. This one here is the fourth. The fifth is still a mystery. Dumbledore guessed that he keeps the sixth one with him, it may be a snake." He grinned. "His little pet. Until all the Horcruxes are gone, he cannot be killed."

There was silence in the graveyard. Not even a breeze stirred the trees outside the gates. Finally, Pendragon spoke in a shaky voice. "Do it! Do what Harry says!"

"And now I agree." Kingsley smiled at Harry. He once again looked at Mad–Eye.

Moody was silent; only his magical eye moved. It went to Harry, then back to the grave, then to Shacklebolt; it seemed to be looking for an answer. Finally, he pulled out his wand. "Okay, we'll do it. Potter, you will stay here with Pendragon. If anything happens, you are to go to headquarters and wait there. Understand?" Harry nodded; Mad–Eye was neither asking for his opinion nor interested in objections.

Moody continued. "Granger, you and Weasley will come with us. You will stand off to the side, with your wands ready, but if something happens to me and Shacklebolt you will help get Potter out of here and back to headquarters. Do you understand?" Ron and Hermione also nodded.

Shacklebolt and Moody walked toward the grave. Ron and Hermione followed, and Hermione looked nervously at Harry as she walked past him. "I'll be fine," he said to her. "So will you."

With Edward's help, Harry crawled to a headstone and leaned back against it so he was facing Merope's grave. He reached into his belt, and suddenly realized that he had no wand. He looked around. "Where's my wand? Do you see it?"

Pendragon retrieved it from the spot where Harry had been carried. "Here, we picked it up when we moved you." He handed it to Harry, and drew his own.

Moody and Shacklebolt stood a few feet below the foot of the grave. Mad–Eye directed Ron and Hermione to move to the side and farther back. He and Kingsley pointed their wands, and grass and dirt began flying into the air. "Granger and Weasley!" Mad–Eye called out. "Pile it up over there!" Ron looked at him uncertainly, but Hermione extended her wand and the loose soil began to gather into a mound in front of her. After a few minutes, the flying stream abruptly stopped. "That's it," Moody announced. He and Shacklebolt walked toward the open grave, and the light from their wands increased. Ron and Hermione also moved forward, but Kingsley motioned them back. "Wait!" he ordered.

Mad–Eye and Kingsley looked down, then at each other. Moody frowned, but Shacklebolt's face held an expression of amazement. "Edward, come here!" he called.

Ron and Hermione also came and looked into the opening. A wooden coffin lay there, plain except for a small, carved serpent. Lying on top of it, glowing with a soft yellow light, was a wand.

Edward Pendragon stood next to them. "Good lord!" he exclaimed. "The lost wand! How did it get here?" He looked back at Harry who was still leaning against the headstone a few yards away. "How did he know?"

"Then it's what I think it is?" said Shacklebolt.

"Of course! No question. But what's the yellow light?"

The Auror grinned. "That, my friend, is one–seventh of the soul of Lord Voldemort, and in a few hours that one–seventh will vanish on the wind like a lover's whisper."

Mad–Eye snorted. "Since when are you a poet, Shacklebolt?"

Kingsley laughed, a deep, booming sound, and Ron and Hermione startled. "How can you be laughing now?" Ron said. "And what if someone hears?"

"Then we'll enchant the whole cemetery," he replied, still smiling. "Don't worry, Ron. That wand is harmless as long as no one touches it. And as soon as daylight strikes it, it will no longer be a Horcrux."

"How can that be?"

"You explain," Kingsley said to Mad–Eye. "I'll bring Harry over. He should see this."

"It's a very crude Horcrux," Moody said as the Auror strode away. "He probably made it when he was young. It wasn't protected very well, either, as you saw. The bushes were pathetically simple to disarm. I'm surprised Potter couldn't do it. And that wand is not a very efficient container for a Horcrux. It has its own pretty strong protective qualities." He looked at Edward Pendragon with his normal eye. "Right?"

Pendragon nodded. "It would have resisted being used for such a foul purpose. It was in our family for a very long time. I was young when it disappeared, right about the time this grave was dug, now that I think about it. I wonder why You–Know–Who wanted to use it?"

Harry spoke from right behind them. "If you tell me what it is, then I can probably answer that." They all turned, except Moody, whose magical eye looked backward through his head. Harry was supported by Kingsley, but Ron and Hermione both came and took him from the Auror. "Let me see it," Harry said. They helped him hobble to the grave and he peered down at the glowing wand. "Whose was it?" he asked Edward Pendragon.

The man hesitated. "It's a family heirloom, but we do have letters and wills that go back over a thousand years," he said diffidently. "It's Merlin's wand."

There was silence, until Kingsley Shacklebolt said with a smile, "So, Harry, you were going to tell us why the Dark Lord used Merlin's wand as a Horcrux."

"It makes complete sense," Harry answered. "Everything he used was a hallowed relic of some kind. Professor Dumbledore thought that he preferred things that were connected to Hogwarts. But this one must be older and more valuable than anything else in Britain. Somehow, he found out about it and managed to steal it. He stole most of the other objects that he turned into Horcruxes."

They all gazed at it. Finally Ron spoke. "So what happens when the sun comes up?"

"A Dark Art performed on something like this can't stand the light of day," Moody growled. "What are they teaching you at that school, anyway?"

"Nothing about Merlin's wand," Ron shot back. "So now we just wait?"

"Now we just wait," Kingsley said.

They sat around the open grave, and while Kingsley examined Harry's foot, they discussed what they would do after sunrise.

"Potter, you're going straight to the hospital," Moody said. "You took more hits in five minutes than I did in five years."

"No," Harry shook his head. "I'm going to the Burrow." He looked at Ron, then back at Mad–Eye. "I'm going home."

"That's not your home," Moody replied.

"It is, and it has been for six years. Anyway," he lowered his voice and put his head down, "there's someone there I have to talk to."

Ron grinned, and Hermione, who was sitting behind Harry, put her hand on his shoulder. "Harry, that would be the best Christmas present for everyone," she whispered in his ear.

Harry put his hand on hers. "That's what I was thinking, too."

"Give up, Alastor," Kingsley laughed. "Remember what I said about lovers?"

"Fine, fine," Mad–Eye growled. "Molly can take care of him, I suppose. But what about that foot?"

"Bruised, and the skin's pretty badly burned." Shacklebolt looked at Harry. "Seriously, Harry, you need someone to fix it. I can't do much more."

Edward Pendragon spoke. "There's a Healer a few miles from my house. She works at St. Mungo's, but she comes home for the holidays."

"That's it then," said Harry. "I'm going home tomorrow, but I'll let the Healer see it first."

"'You'll let her see it first,'" Moody repeated in a deeper growl. "Damn right you will, Potter. If I let you go to Molly Weasley with your foot like that, she'll put me in one of her pot pies."

Everyone laughed, and soon all the plans for tomorrow — Christmas Eve — were settled. Mad–Eye would return to the Burrow first. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Kingsley would follow as soon as Harry was well enough to Apparate, hopefully later the same day. Edward Pendragon would fetch Harry's Firebolt from the cottage by the sea, and return it to Harry as soon as possible. Then they sat and waited — wrapped in their cloaks and warmed by a charm that Kingsley cast — until the sky in the east started to grow light.

They all stood, and Ron and Hermione helped Harry, who could not put weight on his right foot. Slowly the sun rose and a small breeze came up. The sun cast a pale light on Merope's headstone, and inside the grave the coffin and the glowing wand lying on it became more distinct. The light strengthened. Suddenly, the yellow glow flashed and was replaced by a yellowish veil of smoke that rose above the grave and then above the headstone. The breeze quickened, and the veil disappeared.

Ron, along with everyone else, stared at the wand, but he looked around at the others. "Why was it so easy? How can we be sure it's gone?"

"Don't underestimate Voldemort, but don't overestimate him, either," Moody growled. "I told you he was probably young when he made this one. Young and arrogant." He looked at Ron with both eyes. "That's a common combination." Ron didn't answer.

Harry's arms were draped over Ron and Hermione's shoulders. He lifted his face from the coffin and the wand, and looked into the rising sun.

"What is it?" Hermione said.

Harry turned to Alastor. "When you go to the Burrow today, I want you to deliver a message for Ginny Weasley, and ask her to have her family about her. Tell her, 'We could have had ages... months... years. And we will when I come home.'"


	11. Faithful As The Rising Sun

**Chapter Eleven**

**Faithful As the Rising Sun**

No one in the kitchen reacted for several heartbeats after Moody finished delivering his message. Ginny threw herself at him and hugged him. There was a loud squeal from her Pygmy Puff, which she was still holding and squashing against Mad–Eye's back. "Oh, I'm sorry!" she exclaimed.

"Is that addressed to me or to this... what is it?" Moody's magical eye stared at the Puff, which Ginny was stroking and trying to placate.

"Mad–Eye!" Fred said in a hurt tone. "It's one of our best selling items."

"So the best ex–Auror in Britain doesn't know the magical fauna of his own native land," George added.

"I know magical morons when I see them, with either eye," Moody growled.

Ginny was not listening to the banter. She whirled to face a grinning Tonks. "I told you it would be fine," the Auror said.

"What should I do? I can't think. Let me put this away. I'll be right back!" Ginny tore upstairs faster than she had come down. She threw the Puff into its cage and it let out a string of indignant chirps. Ginny dragged her trunk into the middle of the floor and started throwing clothes out; she didn't know what she should put on. She threw them back in and slammed the trunk shut. She pulled her new boots on and gathered her hair back with the golden lion clasp, and in a moment she was back in the kitchen. Mad–Eye was sitting at the table with her parents; everyone else had returned to the parlor to finish decorating the tree and to discuss the news.

"When will he be here?" Ginny asked breathlessly.

"Should be before dark," said Moody. "A Healer was looking at his foot. It was burned. When I left she was still working on it."

"How did it happen? Can he walk?"

"I'll let him tell you," Moody answered. "He needs help to walk."

Ginny was actually torn between worrying about Harry's injury, and a vision of his arm around her shoulder as she helped him hobble about the Burrow, up the stairs, outside into the garden... "I think I'll go help with the tree," she said. "I want it ready before he — I mean, they get here."

She spent the next two hours decorating the parlor with the others, using paper cutouts as liberally as she had last year. It was finally done as dusk was falling. The fire cast a warm glow, and the smell of pine tree filled the room. Ginny sat in a chair near the door, feeling a nervous, tingling anticipation. She didn't know what to think; in reality, she could not think straight at all. What had happened to make Harry send that message? Had he been hit on the head? More than one person had told her that was exactly what he needed to bring him to his senses.

There was a string of pops from outside, and her heart leapt and her stomach dropped. She ran to the door and flung it open. Standing in the gloom and the dementors mist were Ron and Hermione, supporting Harry between them. There was another pop, and Kingsley Shacklebolt appeared behind them.

Everyone piled out of the Burrow. Molly ran to Ron and hugged him, then Harry, then Hermione. "We'll be bringing your parents here tomorrow morning," she informed Hermione. "We already told them you were coming today. Harry, what happened to you? My goodness, every time I see you, you've been attacked or fallen off your broom." She inspected Harry, who looked over her shoulder at Ginny.

Ginny's heart was pounding; he had not looked at her like that since last spring, before Professor Dumbledore's funeral. She walked toward him, vaguely aware of other people, of Kingsley talking to her father, of the twins and Bill and Fleur gathered around Ron, Hermione and Harry, asking questions. But Harry was not answering; he never took his eyes from Ginny as she approached.

Hermione moved aside. Ginny stepped next to Harry and he put his arm around her shoulder. As she and Ron helped him limp to the door, he still did not take his eyes from her. She glanced at him once and blushed and looked down. No one had ever looked at her with such intensity; she could feel his gaze boring into her as they entered the Burrow.

They sat him down at the kitchen table, and Ginny looked at him in the light. He did have a small bruise and a lump on his forehead opposite his scar, but otherwise he seemed all right. He smiled as she sat next to him; he touched the lion clasp in her hair, and Ginny knew that she was still blushing furiously.

Molly started bustling, and dishes and pots began flying around the kitchen, setting themselves on the table or the stove. She started to speak, but Fleur cut her off.

"Mon Dieu!" she cried. "Can't you see zey want to be alone? Come!" She grabbed Bill, pushed Arthur ahead of her, and scowled at Molly. "We can wait a few minutes for dinner. Out! Out!" She shooed the rest of them, and in a moment the kitchen was empty except for Ginny and Harry. Fleur paused and looked back. "I t'ink I can keep zem out for fifteen minutes." She smiled, and Ginny thought she had a vague sense of what a veela's look could do to a man.

But Harry was not looking at Fleur. He was looking straight into Ginny's eyes.

"I— I've been rehearsing this all day," he stammered, and _he_ blushed. "I'll probably still get it wrong. Ginny, I know I've said this before, but I'm sorry. I'm sorry for every stupid thing I ever said or did. Something happened yesterday, and I almost... I almost died. And what I thought at that moment was, how could I do this to you?" He blinked several times; Ginny put her hand on his cheek, and Harry took it. "I didn't care about Voldemort or Horcruxes," he continued in a hoarse voice. "The only thing that mattered was what it would do to you. I told myself that if I lived, I would never walk away from you again. I promise you that. Do you believe me?"

There were whispers from just outside the kitchen, and Ginny saw an Extendable Ear snaking along the floor into the room. She stood and pulled Harry up. She backed toward the door to the yard, holding his hands, and he limped after her. She stepped on the Ear as she passed it, and ground it into the floor under her dragon–hide boot; it made a squishing noise, and someone in the hallway swore.

She opened the door and they stumbled outside. She caught Harry in her arms, and they kissed. Harry pressed her tightly against him. Her fingers dug into his back. She was trembling in his arms; she could feel both of them losing control, and she didn't care.

"It's dinner time, kids. Dessert's usually last," Tonks said in a lilting voice from the doorway, and they broke apart. "And you should close the door when you go outside." She giggled. As she shut the door, Molly peered over her shoulder.

"Did you answer my question?" Harry grinned at Ginny.

Ginny ran her hand over his face and across his scar. "For now, it's yes. But you'll have to convince me again after dinner."

"You are one tough witch to persuade," Harry laughed. He put his arm around her shoulder, and she helped him back into the kitchen.

The entire household was standing around the table looking at them. Ginny glared at the twins. "Good thing you bought me these boots," she said. "They're perfect for dealing with annoying magical objects."

George held up what looked like a squashed worm. "Gee, Sis, you didn't have to obliterate it."

"What the heck is that?" Harry asked. "It looks like one of your Extendable Ears got chewed up."

"That's it, more or less," Ginny said. "It's my brothers' idea of a bad joke."

"And after everything I did for you," Harry said softly to George. The twins looked as abashed as was possible for them.

Molly began serving. Ginny sat between Harry and Hermione, who looked at her curiously. "Is he okay?" she whispered to Ginny as the Yorkshire pudding passed itself around the table. Ginny just grinned.

She noticed that her mother was casting frequent glances at her and Harry, and she wondered how, after all the mother–daughter talks they had shared during the past few months, her mum could be surprised that the first thing she and Harry would do was snog. It was a little annoying, on top of the twins' stunt, but then her mother smiled, and Ginny smiled back.

Harry was talking to Kingsley, who was sitting on his other side. Ginny moved her elbow and bumped his arm, and held it pressed against him. He didn't turn, but she felt his leg move, and he put his foot on hers. Ginny glanced across the table at Tonks who was hiding a grin with her hand. Next to Tonks, Mad–Eye was holding a fork full of roast lamb in front of his mouth, but he wasn't eating it. Ginny realized, with a blush, that Moody's magical eye was staring through the table at her and Harry's feet, while his normal eye looked at her. She stuck her tongue out at him, and Tonks burst into laughter.

After dinner, Ginny helped Harry get up, and he stepped gingerly on his right foot. "It's getting better," he said. "The Healer gave me a potion and told me an spell, but I think I'll let your mum do it. I had some problems. You know, my spells." His face, which to Ginny had been as bright as a sunny day, now clouded.

"That's going to get better. I know it for a fact," Ginny declared. "Right, Mum?"

Mrs. Weasley was standing at the sink, watching the dishes getting scrubbed. "Of course it will. Harry, you mustn't doubt that. I think you're well on your way to recovery."

"Recovery from what?" Harry was puzzled. "I think my foot is getting better, but how could that affect my spells?

"Why don't you and Ginny go to the parlor. Everyone wants to know what happened yesterday."

Ginny was certain that her mother was trying to keep her and Harry from being alone. Well, she thought, there wasn't much chance of that happening in this house, not with her mum on the lookout.

"Mrs. Weasley," Harry said as he sat down again, "could you put some of that potion on my foot? It's in my cloak, and she wrote down a charm, too."

Ginny got Harry's cloak from a hook next to the door. In the pocket were a small, corked bottle and a parchment. There were also two photographs; she glanced at them and put them back.

Ginny read the parchment over her mother's shoulder. "That looks a lot like one we learned this year in Charms. I can do it."

Molly frowned. "You know you can't do magic here, Ginny. You can put the potion on."

Harry took off his boot and sock, and propped his foot on a chair. Ginny dabbed at the red marks on his heel and sole with the potion.

"I forgot to tell you," Harry said. "The Healer was the same witch who took care of your feet last spring when the train was attacked."

Ginny grinned at him as she wiped down his foot. "You and I have so much in common, don't we?"

"Yes. In fact, the Healer said we must be made for each other. Do you think she meant more than just our feet?"

Ginny blushed, and glanced at her mother; Molly was smiling. Ginny stood aside as her mother began the charm. She was annoyed about not being allowed to do it herself, but when Molly finished, Harry's foot was noticeably improved; the red places were now just pink. Harry put his footwear back on and tried walking.

"Wow, that's much better," he said, striding up and down the kitchen. "Thanks, Mrs. Weasley. And Miss Weasley."

Molly pushed them both toward the parlor. "You two go inside. Everyone's waiting to hear you, Harry."

The fire was roaring and the parlor was warm and cozy. Ginny sat in an easy chair, and Harry perched on the arm. He answered questions about the grave and, as far as he could remember, about the attack on himself. Everyone in the room knew about the Horcrux. Kingsley told them about the wand, and they marveled that such an ancient, almost sacred object could be used for such a purpose. Molly came in shortly and turned on the wireless. As soon as Celestina Warbeck began crooning _Love Potion Number Seven_ Fleur groaned loudly and walked out muttering in French.

The conversation turned to other topics. Harry took Ginny's hand, and gestured to the kitchen. Ginny felt her mother and father watching as they walked out. In the kitchen, Harry put his arms around her and nuzzled her cheek. "Where can we be alone?" he said. "Your mum is watching us like a hawk."

Ginny grabbed two cloaks from their hooks. "In the garden," she whispered. They slipped out the back door, and didn't see Mrs. Weasley poke her head into the kitchen and watch them go outside.

Harry was barely limping now, and he led Ginny away from the lights of the house into the cold, damp darkness. They found their way to the garden, and next to the fence he stopped and took Ginny into his arms and embraced her with a long, deep kiss.

Ginny rested her head on his chest, and Harry stroked her hair. "I didn't want to be alone just to snog you," he murmured. "There's so much I want to say, to tell you."

"So do I." Ginny closed her eyes. She was in a dream; twenty–four hours ago her only hope was that Harry would come back alive and unhurt. Now, not only was he here, but everything that her heart had hoped for was actually happening.

The back door opened, and light spilled outside. Two wands flared.

"Ginny? Harry? Are you there?" Molly's voice cut through the dankness and the fog. She sounded angry.

"Brilliant," Ginny said in a low voice. "This is what I get for being the youngest and the only girl."

The two wands approached, and Harry and Ginny made out the shapes of Molly and Tonks. "We're coming, Mum." Ginny spoke before her mother could. "We were talking."

Tonks, standing behind Molly, rolled her eyes, but Mrs. Weasley pursed her lips. "You shouldn't be out here alone, especially with all this fog. Please come inside, right now."

I'm sorry, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said. "We weren't going far from the house."

Molly gave him a tight smile. Tonks stood aside as Harry and Ginny passed. "Come sit with us," she said. "It's nice and snug with the fire. Everyone wants to see you, Harry."

Back in the parlor, the wireless was off and Fleur had returned. She looked up as they entered.

"Zat is not right," she declared. "Zey need to be alone, two lovers like zem." She frowned at Molly, who glared back.

"No one should be outside at night, not with that mist around. Least of all 'zem.'"

"Donc, c'est impossible." Fleur gave a Gallic shrug.

Harry and Ginny went back to their easy chair, with Harry sitting on the arm again. Gradually the parlor emptied as people went to bed. Soon only Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione remained, but Mrs. Weasley was out in the kitchen, making sufficient noise so that anyone in the parlor would know she was there.

"This is ridiculous," Ron finally said. He went into the kitchen, and they heard him speaking in a low voice, and Molly answering. He came back and sat down on the sofa next to Hermione.

"I think she'll go to bed now," he announced, "but I had to promise to chaperone you." He looked at Ginny.

"What?" Ginny was incredulous. "I don't need a chaperone, least of all you!"

"Shut up!" Ron hissed. "I had to say it just to get her to leave. Good night, Mum." He smiled as Mrs. Weasley peeked into the parlor.

"Good night, dears. Don't stay up late. Harry, you must be exhausted. Why don't you go up to bed now?"

"I'll be up soon, Mrs. Weasley. Good night."

Molly looked at him skeptically, but left, and they heard her climb the stairs and go into her bedroom. The door closed, and the Burrow was silent.

Ginny pulled Harry into the chair and wrapped herself around him. They kissed again. After several minutes, Hermione giggled and Ron coughed loudly.

"Shut up yourself, Ron," Ginny called from down inside the easy chair. Harry looked up with his eyeglasses askew, and grinned. He and Ginny unfolded themselves and Harry settled in the chair with Ginny sideways on his lap, her arms around his neck. Ron stared until Ginny started staring back and Hermione poked him in the ribs. They talked long into the night, and then into the early hours of the morning. Harry told Ginny about his journey to the graveyard, and Ron and Hermione recounted how they had left Hogwarts and arrived at Edward Pendragon's house just before Mad–Eye Moody and Kingsley Shacklebolt. They went straight to the cemetery, and found Merope's grave, but not Harry. They spent the rest of the day at the Pendragon house, until, shortly after sunset, Moody suddenly announced that Harry was at the cemetery. They got there just as the attack was about to finish him off.

"I wish I had been there." Ginny shuddered, and tightened her arms around Harry.

Harry lifted her chin and looked into her eyes; his own were glistening. "I promise I will never do that to you again."

"You convinced me." There was another long snog.

They talked again about the wand and the Horcrux, and then Ginny wanted to know about the Healer. Since the burns were caused by magic, and were so severe, the Healer could not cure them quickly. Fortunately, Kingsley had been able to keep the pain from becoming unbearable. They didn't want Harry to Apparate until his foot had healed, but he would not wait, and so they arrived at the Burrow on Christmas Eve.

When Harry and Ginny saw the first hint of daylight through the window, Ron had fallen asleep and Hermione was dozing with her head on his shoulder.

"Now what?" Harry asked quietly. "I'm getting sleepy myself. I only napped during the day yesterday, and we were up the whole night before."

Ginny got up and peered out the east–facing window. Dawn was about to break through the dementors mist.

"Come upstairs to my room," she whispered. "I want to show you something."

"Ginny!"

She slapped his chest. "Harry! It's not that. Come on."

She led him out of the parlor — Ron was snoring quietly — and up the stairs to her room. She closed her door and pushed Harry against the wall next to it. "Stand here," she whispered, "and wait."

Harry stood, not knowing what was happening. The room was very dark; he could hear the Pygmy Puffs chirping in their cage. Ginny went to the window and sat on the sill. "Just wait," she whispered again.

The sky brightened, and Christmas day dawned. The sun came up under the cloud cover and pierced the haze with a burst of golden light. It rose directly behind Ginny, and in a few moments she was perfectly silhouetted against it. A red halo blazed around her head as sunlight streamed through her hair. Harry saw the world on fire with Ginny in the center. His heart was also burning; he had never seen anything like it. He walked toward her. With his vision dimmed by the brilliant light, he didn't see the trunk lying on the floor. He tripped over it and sprawled on Ginny's bed.

The door opened and Molly Weasley looked into the room. She fixed Harry with a stony stare. "What is going on here?" she demanded. "Harry, get off that bed."

Harry stood up, and stepped toward Molly and the door. He tripped on the trunk again, and had to catch himself on it. He and Ginny both started talking at the same time.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Weasley, Ginny was just showing —"

"Mum, nothing happened! I just wanted to show Harry —"

Molly cut them both off. "Harry, please leave. Ginny, I want to talk to you, in our room. Your father is there."

Harry looked at Ginny; she was glaring defiantly at her mother. He left the room without looking at Molly. Ron and Hermione were standing at the foot of the stairs with stricken expressions, but Harry pushed past them, and was about to go out the door when Remus Lupin spoke; he was sitting at the kitchen table.

"Harry, don't."

Harry ignored him; he took his cloak and went outside. He was angry and upset; Mrs. Weasley had never treated him like that. He could understand what it must have looked like, but she had not let them explain. She didn't trust him, that was clear. He had believed that the Burrow was his home now, but maybe it couldn't be as long as he and Ginny were together. As he strode away from the house, he heard the door open and close behind him.

"Harry! Wait!" It was Lupin again. Harry stopped and turned as Remus hurried up.

"Harry, you shouldn't be going off by yourself. It's getting dangerous." Remus gestured to the thickening mist. "There was a report of a big swarm of dementors. Nymphadora and Kingsley both had to leave for the Ministry. Please, come back inside."

Harry looked back at the Burrow. Muffled shouts and a thumping noise came from the second floor; someone was stamping her foot very emphatically. "I'll be fine. I won't go far. My foot's not bothering me anymore. I need to take a walk."

"Harry, you have to look at it from Molly's point of view. She loves you like a son, but if it got out that Harry Potter had been in her daughter's bedroom, at night, an underage witch —"

"Nothing happened! We weren't up there to do anything! She was showing me the sunrise." It sounded lame even to Harry. "Nothing happened," he said again more quietly. "I just wanted a little time alone with her. You have no idea what we've gone through." He looked at the house again. "I promise I won't go far. I have my wand. I can conjure a fully formed Patronus, you know."

Lupin smiled. "Yes, I know, I taught you how to do it. But I also know that you've been having problems with your magic."

Harry turned and began walking down the lane toward the clearing where, the summer before, he had crashed his Firebolt. The mist swirled in the early morning light; the sun had already disappeared behind the low–hanging overcast. He entered the clearing, still angry. Mrs. Weasley had no reason to interfere with him and Ginny. Ginny was right, it was only because she was a daughter — and the youngest child — that her mother was being so strict. What did her mum think would happen when they got back to school? Couples were always going off by themselves; he and Ginny had done it last year, and he bet that Arthur and Molly did it when they were at Hogwarts. Why did he and Ginny have to be shadowed like they were children?

The sun dimmed and the sky darkened, and the air suddenly chilled. Harry looked up, and his insides lurched. A huge horde of dementors was coming over the treetops, filling the sky above the clearing. It quickly became colder. The leading edge of the swarm passed over in the direction of the Burrow, but single dementors began to break off and then large groups turned and headed straight for Harry. He was well out from the trees, and completely visible from above. He drew his wand with a trembling hand. He tried to speak the incantation, but his throat was constricted with fear. He stumbled backward. The dementor in the lead was the largest one he had ever seen. He kept on backing up, and forced the words from his mouth, _"Expecto Patronum!"_

But it came out as a pathetic croak, and nothing came from his wand. The dementors, dozens of them, began circling him. More joined from the cloud above. The grass was withering in the awful cold, and everything around him seemed to be darkening. Something brushed his back; he whirled and was face–to–face with the huge dementor. He raised his wand, and tried desperately to think of something happy. He filled his mind with the first sight he had had of Ginny yesterday, and again cried out, _"Expecto Patronum!"_ A wispy, translucent shield appeared at the end of his wand, and the dementor fell back.

A bony hand gripped Harry's shoulder, and he screamed. The Patronus disappeared. He tried to run, but the hand pulled him back and threw him to the ground. The dementor loomed over him; he could feel nothing but hopeless despair. Its hooded face drew nearer, and cold and terror filled Harry's soul. He would never see Ginny again. She had taken him back; she had saved him. He looked up; she _had_ to be there, to save him again.

But inches from his face was an eyeless dark form surrounded by black shadow. And somehow, that awoke, deep inside him, the remembrance of something similar, something that had been beyond happiness. Ginny's form flashed into his mind, haloed with a fiery red circle of sunlight. _That_ was what he would never see again. Burning rage and fury against his fate, against destroyed hope, engulfed him and surged through his body. Harry jerked his wand up and thrust it into the dementor's face.

A golden–white stag erupted from the wand, brilliant as the sun and with red fire in its eyes. It crashed into the dementor, which exploded into flames and collapsed to the ground with a horrid shriek. The stag bowled over three more dementors and all became flaming torches. It circled back, and quickly dozens of dementors were burning. Screams filled the air. The stag circled Harry. It did not drive the dementors away, it was a bolt of lightning, streaking around the clearing, incinerating dementors before they could turn and flee. Some became entangled in tree branches, and soon the forest was on fire. The clearing, outside a swath around Harry, was covered with charred and flaming corpses. Black smoke filled the air and rose to the sky.

Harry staggered to his feet, watching the holocaust in wonder and horror. He looked at his trembling wand. Where had that magic come from?

He heard distant shouts. People were running down the lane, and Ginny was in the lead. She had her wand out, and before her flew a silver phoenix. It caught a dementor trying to escape down the lane in its talons and tossed it aside. The Patronus entered the clearing, but soared up in front of the carpet of flames that was the remains of countless dementors. The people behind it also stopped.

But Ginny ran on, through fire and coals, kicking aside piles of smoking bones and rags with her dragon–hide boots. "Harry, Harry!" she screamed. "What happened? Are you hurt?" She stopped in front of him, completely out of breath.

"I'm okay, I think." He held his wand up, and looked at the stag standing only yards away. It stamped its legs, and flames shot from its hooves. Ginny backed away, and Harry put his arm around her. "Have you ever seen anything like it?" he said in wonder.

There were no more living dementors in sight. They could see, through the smoke, that the sun was out, and the mist over the clearing had disappeared. Ginny looked at Harry in awe. "How did you do that?" she whispered. "I think your magic is back."

Harry looked at the stag again, and tightened his arm around Ginny. "I saw the sun, just like it was in your room. That's what brought it. You. Otherwise I would be dead, or worse."

Ginny put her arm around him. "Last summer, after you went back to Hogwarts, my mum told me that when you got better you would be your flaming old self again. Those were her very words."

They heard people calling out Aguamenti charms, and fountains of water began extinguishing the flames in the trees and around the clearing. Mad–Eye Moody was making his way toward them, dousing the fires in front of him with showers from his wand. He stopped momentarily when distant sirens sounded; he shouted something to Arthur Weasley and walked on into the clearing. Arthur turned and hurried back toward the Burrow.

"That'll be the Muggle fire department," Ginny said to Harry. "They used to come out here a lot when Fred and George were still around. Dad knows how to deal with them."

"I guess they saw the flames. Half the forest was on fire."

Moody arrived, watching the stag with his magical eye as he approached. "What is that thing, Potter? How did you conjure it? I never saw anything like it."

Harry shrugged. "It came out of my wand."

"Obviously it came out of you wand. The question is how. What did you do?"

Harry thought for a moment. He remembered the circle of sunlight, and the hope, and the rage he had felt when he was about to lose Ginny. "I saw something that made me totally happy, and then I thought I was going to lose it forever. I think I pointed my wand, and then that came out." He nodded toward the stag, and it stamped flames again.

Mad–Eye looked up at the blue sky, then at the black, smoking heaps lying about them. He turned both eyes on Harry. "You may have just won the war for us, Potter," he growled.

* * *

_A/N – The title of this chapter is from a line in the song, _Like a Songbird That Has Fallen, _by Reeltime Travelers, from the soundtrack of the film, _Cold Mountain_:_

_"Love is from a distance calling, faithful as the rising sun..."_

_A/N #2 - I know, I know. In the movies, Ginny's Patronus is a horse of some kind. However, in the books her Patronus is never described, so I've taken the liberty of making it a phoenix, for reasons that will become clear later on. :-)_


	12. New Magic

**Chapter Twelve**

**New Magic**

Harry and Ginny picked their way back across the clearing to the lane, and the stag vanished as soon as Harry turned away. Moody poked at a few of the dementors' remains, but soon followed them. Everyone from the Burrow was standing at the edge of the clearing except Ginny's parents and Hermione. They watched in silence as Harry and Ginny approached.

"Where's Hermione?" Harry asked Ron.

"Her folks got here just as those things started flying over, and she and Mum stayed in the house with them. They were terrified, poor blokes." Ron shook his head. "Dad went back to head off the fire department."

Everyone stared at Harry, but he said nothing. He was exhausted, and didn't want to answer any questions.

"Shouldn't we clean this up?" Bill asked, gesturing around the clearing as Mad–Eye arrived, looking grim.

"Not yet," he growled. "Someone from the Ministry will be here soon, you can bet on it. Shacklebolt or Tonks, I hope. They should see this. Wait, Potter!" he called to Harry, who had started up the lane toward the Burrow with Ginny and Ron. "You need to be here when they come."

Harry stopped and turned. "I'm about to fall asleep on my feet, I've been up for more than two days, my foot's hurting again, and I'm hungry. If they want to talk to me, they can come to the house."

"Come on." Ginny put her arm around his waist and urged him on. "We all need breakfast."

"I'm not talking to anyone from the Ministry except your father, Kingsley, or Tonks," Harry declared as they approached the Burrow. "I'll never trust Scrimgeour."

"Wait till you hear what happened after Dumbledore's funeral," Ginny said. "I never told you."

Harry stopped outside the door. "What do you mean? I know you walked around the lake and your feet got all messed up. Was there more?"

"I was standing by the lake and Rufus Scrimgeour came out of the forest and started asking me questions about you. I tried to get away, but he wouldn't let me go. He actually grabbed my arm and pulled his wand on me."

A look of fury came over Harry's face. "That son of a —"

"Let me finish," Ginny interrupted, and she told him about the centaurs and the mermaid. "I'm sure it was the same mermaid we saw in the fog."

"Why did the centaurs do that? They're not supposed to care anything about us."

Ginny glanced at Ron, who was listening avidly. "Let's go eat," she said, and pushed him into the Burrow.

Arthur Weasley was about to go out the door, but he stopped when he saw Harry. "Is everything all right?" he asked. "What was that stag? How did it get there?"

Molly was standing in front of the stove and had turned to look when they came inside. Hermione was seated at the table with her parents, but she jumped up and ran over to Harry. "It was some kind of Patronus, wasn't it?' she said excitedly. "I mean, from what Mr. Weasley described, it must have been."

Harry nodded wearily. "Yeah, it was a Patronus, but I don't know why it was so... so strong. I'm sorry. I can hardly stand up. I need to eat. So does Ginny, and we need to go to bed, too. I mean —" He looked quickly at Mrs. Weasley, but she just turned back to the stove. "I mean, we both need some sleep. I'm babbling."

Ginny led him to the table. "Merry Christmas, Dr. Granger, Dr. Granger," she said to Hermione's parents. "Did my dad tell you that the dementors are gone?"

"Oh, no!" Ron, who had just sat down, sprang up. "I completely forgot! It's Christmas."

Hermione jerked him back into his seat. "Relax, Ron. Your presents will still be there in an hour." Ron turned red and busied himself with a bowl of porridge.

Harry felt more and more drowsy as he ate, and Ginny watched as his head drooped lower and lower. "You need to sleep," she finally said, and hauled him out of his chair. "Mum, Harry's foot is bothering him again. Where's that potion? I'll take it upstairs."

"Ginny, you may not use magic in this house," her mother admonished. "You'll get your father in trouble."

"All right," Ginny grumbled. "Hermione can do it."

With Ron and Hermione helping, and with only surreptitious glances from her mother, Ginny led Harry up into Ron's attic room. A snowy owl hooted from a perch near the window as they entered. "Hedwig!" Harry smiled. "When did you get here?"

He stumbled over to her and stroked her back, and she clucked and nibbled his hand. Then he stumbled back to his cot; there was a pile of Christmas presents on it, but he pushed them onto the floor, fell on the cot, and was instantly asleep.

"What's with Mum?" Ginny asked Ron as she pulled off Harry's boots and socks; his right heel was bright red. "I expected another lecture about being with Harry."

"The folks had a little talk this morning, right before the dementors came over. You were still upstairs. I couldn't hear everything, but I think Dad told her to back off you two."

"Wow! Dad told her that?"

"Well, Harry saved half the family's lives, after all."

Ginny was kneeling next to the cot, applying the potion. She knew that her father had not said that simply out of gratitude. Last spring, when he had explained the centaurs and the mermaid to her, he had been smiling when he said that she was "Harry's girl." Well, now she really was Harry's girl. She squeezed his hand, and he mumbled inaudibly in his sleep. Ginny wiped up the potion, and Hermione waved her wand over his heel. The skin slowly turned a healthy pink.

"Excellent, Ginny!" Hermione whispered. Ginny covered Harry with a blanket and kissed him. A tiny smile passed over his face, and he mumbled again.

They went quietly downstairs, and Ginny stopped outside her room. "I need to go to bed, too, but stop in for a minute." Inside, she pushed the trunk out of the way and climbed onto her bed. "People from the Ministry will be here soon," she said, "and we need to keep them away from Harry, at least for today. You heard him say he won't talk to anyone except Dad, Kingsley, and Tonks?" she asked Ron.

He nodded. "And I hope Percy doesn't show up, either, for his own sake. After what happened in the clearing, I expect that Fred and George will let him have it."

"That's his problem. What Harry did today is going to turn everything topsy-turvy, and Percy's on the wrong side again."

Hermione sat on the bed and leaned toward Ginny. "Tell me what happened. Your dad said it was a fiery Patronus."

Ginny thought back on the incredible scene in the clearing. "Yeah, and Moody said he never saw anything like it. It's new magic, Hermione. His stag was flying around the clearing, and every time it touched a dementor, it blew up. It was brilliant, and scary. Flames came out when it stamped its hooves. And then Moody said, 'You just won the war for us, Potter.'" She shook her head and put her hand over her heart. "Can it be true?"

"What about the Horcruxes?" Ron asked. "Even if Voldemort got burned up, he'd still be alive."

Hermione nodded. " I think what Alastor meant was that if the dementors start taking orders from the Ministry again, Voldemort would lose his main weapon. People wouldn't be so terrified anymore. He'd have to rely on Death Eaters to do his fighting, and there just aren't that many of them."

She turned to Ginny. "Did Harry tell you how he did it? It wouldn't do much good if he was the only one who could conjure them."

The question embarrassed Ginny, but she took a breath and answered. "Just before he went outside, we were in here, and I, uh, showed him how the sun comes in through the window at dawn. I like to sit on the sill and watch it. When my shadow falls on the wall over there, the sun makes kind of a halo around my hair." She giggled self–consciously. "It sounds stupid, I know, but I like it, and so did Harry. And that's what he said he saw right before he conjured the stag."

Hermione frowned. "But that's just like conjuring a normal Patronus. You think of a happy memory. Something else happened that made it different."

Ginny thought. "He told Mad–Eye that he felt as though he was about to lose something that made him happy. Me, I suppose."

Hermione smiled and got off the bed. "That still doesn't explain it," she said. "We'll have to wait until he wakes up. You look like you need sleep, too. And I don't want to leave my parents alone. And you," she turned to Ron, "you need to open your Christmas presents, don't you?"

"I'd sure like to," he replied earnestly. Hermione laughed and pulled him out of the room.

It was late afternoon when Ginny awoke. She went straight upstairs and peeked in Ron's room; Harry was still asleep. Downstairs she found her mother, Hermione, and Hermione's parents in the kitchen, and a confrontation of some kind going on in the front yard. There were raised voices from several people; her father's was the loudest.

"It's that man, Rufus Scrimgeour," Molly said angrily. "He poisoned Percy's mind against his family, he threatened you, and now he wants Harry to show him how he killed all those dementors. Ginny, come here, I'd like to talk to you."

Ginny wanted to go outside, but she followed her mother into the parlor, not knowing what to expect. Molly sat on the sofa and beckoned Ginny to sit next to her.

"I'm certain you've been annoyed with me," she began, "and I understand. I talked to your father and some of our other friends, and they told me I should be a little more trusting."

Ginny nodded. "I think so too, Mum."

Molly smiled. "Well, you're right. You know how much I love Harry, and how badly I felt because of how he was treating you, not just for your sake, but for his as well." She glanced up as more loud voices came from outside. "You'll be seventeen soon. All of my children will be grown. I don't know if I'm ready for that, and I suppose that's why I did those things." She dabbed at her eyes with the edge of her apron.

"It's okay, Mum. It's all working out for me and Harry, and you helped, you really did. All those times I wanted to talk, you listened."

Oh, Ginny!" Molly hugged her. "I can't tell you how happy I am that you and Harry... I mean, it's wonderful for everyone. And look what it did for Harry's magic, just like I thought it would. Oh!" She jumped up, tears flowing down her face, and ran out of the parlor. Ginny heard her go upstairs and into her room.

Ginny smiled to herself. She knew that it was Tonks and Remus whom her mum "had talked to." She and Harry could be a little more discreet for the next few days; after all, they would be back at Hogwarts in a week...

There was shouting from the yard, and Ginny looked out the window. Her father was face–to–face with Rufus Scrimgeour, shaking his finger at the Minister of Magic. Ginny hurried outside. Tonks and Kingsley were back from London, and Percy and two other wizards from the Ministry stood outside the yard, looking as though they were witnessing a disemboweling. Remus, Moody, and the rest of the Weasley family, except for the twins, were gathered around the main combatants. Fred and George stood menacingly near Percy with their wands out, tapping them in unison against their open palms.

Mr. Weasley and Scrimgeour stopped shouting when they saw Ginny. Scrimgeour stepped back from Arthur, looking somewhat abashed.

"He wanted to see Harry," Ron whispered to Ginny, as the Minister began a conversation with Tonks and Kingsley. "Then Dad asked him what happened at the lake after Dumbledore's funeral, and they started yelling. I guess Dad never brought it up at the office."

Ginny stared at Rufus Scrimgeour, and he glanced at her. "You can't see him!" she said loudly. "He's sleeping."

"I see." Scrimgeour watched as Arthur and Bill moved to stand next to Ginny. He smiled; he _was_ a handsome man, Ginny thought, and glared at him fiercely. His smile widened. "Miss Weasley, I'm here because I want to ask Harry Potter for his help. I just saw the amazing results of this new magic of his —" he waved in the direction of the clearing — "and I'm hoping to get a chance to ask him to share it with the rest of the Wizarding world."

"He's asleep. It kind of tired him out, as you can imagine."

"I do appreciate that, but maybe you could —"

The door to the Burrow opened, and Harry stepped out, looking disheveled and sleepy. "I heard shouting. It woke me up," he said. Ginny scowled at Scrimgeour.

"Harry." The Minister was not quite unctuous, and not quite pushy. "Can we talk?"

Harry turned to Moody. "Alastor, please tell the Minister of Magic that I won't speak to him until he apologizes to Ginny Weasley for his behavior toward her after Professor Dumbledore's funeral."

But then Ginny spoke. "Also tell him that I won't accept his apology until he tells Harry he's sorry for his behavior last Christmas."

Moody looked at Scrimgeour. "Rufus, " he said pleasantly, "Harry Potter says —"

"I heard him!" Scrimgeour snapped.

"And Ginny Weasley says —"

"All right!" Scrimgeour shouted, and began to limp out of the yard. But he stopped, paused for several seconds, and turned back. His face was red and his teeth were clenched, but he bowed his head to Ginny. "Miss Weasley, I apologize if I have ever offended you. If I did, it was only because I felt so strongly that you could help us defeat our common enemies. Harry, I also offer an apology to you. You and I have our disagreements, but they shouldn't keep us from cooperating in whatever way we can, likewise to defeat our enemies."

Ginny did not believe a word of it, and it seemed that it took a great effort for Scrimgeour to utter those words. But she looked at Harry and assented with a small nod.

"Apologies accepted," Harry said. "What did you want to talk about?"

"Well, perhaps we could have a more private conversation somewhere."

Harry shook his head. "I won't say anything to you about what happened this morning, except in front of everyone."

"Very well," replied Scrimgeour, clearly not happy, "if that's the only way the official Wizarding world can find out. Maybe you can tell all of us exactly what happened, and how. That is, if you know."

"What makes you think he doesn't know?" Ginny demanded.

Scrimgeour looked at her coolly. "Nothing, yet."

"I'm afraid I can't tell you exactly how I did it," said Harry. "First of all, I'm not sure myself, and second of all, some of it's personal."

"Then what good is it if you're the only one who knows how to do it?"

"Rufus," Mad–Eye cut in, "you know damn well that if he can do it, someone else can, too. You've got two of your best Aurors right here —" he gestured at Tonks and Kingsley — "and I'll give you fifty Galleons if they can't duplicate the trick an hour after Potter here tells them what he did. Harry, go ahead, tell him what happened."

Harry looked gratefully at Mad–Eye. Percy took a small leather–bound book and a quill from the wizard standing next to him. The twins glared, but he ignored them. Everyone moved closer to Harry.

"Go get Hermione," he said to Ginny. She hurried inside and in a moment reappeared with her mother, Hermione, and Hermione's parents. Ginny and Molly stood next to Harry; Molly patted Harry's shoulder and glared at Scrimgeour; she smiled at Percy but he ignored her. Fred muttered something to George, and Percy took a step away from them.

"Muggles?" Scrimgeour looked from the Grangers to Arthur Weasley.

"My parents," Hermione said angrily.

"And my guests," Arthur added. "If you don't want to associate with them, you can leave now." He turned to the Grangers, who were looking uncertainly at the crowd in the yard. "I apologize. It won't happen again."

After a moment of tense silence, Harry described the events of the morning, beginning with the appearance of the swarm of dementors, up to the moment he was lying on the ground with one of them hovering over him. "I had a memory of something... happy, very happy. And then I felt that I was going to lose what was in that memory. And then the stag came out of my wand."

"That's it?" Scrimgeour sounded dubious.

Everyone could hear Percy scribbling in the book. Fred flicked his wand, and the inkpot being held by one of the wizards exploded, splattering ink all over the page, as well as Percy's robes. He made a snarling noise at Fred, and the wizard hastily cleaned up the damage with his wand.

Harry glared at Scrimgeour. "That's it, as far as what I'm going to tell you." He turned to Molly. "Mrs. Weasley, can I get something to eat? I didn't have much at breakfast."

"Of course, Harry dear. Why didn't you ask before? It's almost dinner time anyway." She bustled into the house. Harry nodded to the Minister, and followed with Ginny. Several conversations broke out in the yard.

"Well, sir," Arthur smiled icily at Scrimgeour, "we're about to eat dinner, so if you'll excuse us... It's Christmas." The Minister gestured to Percy and the two wizards, and stalked out of the yard. Percy glanced nervously at the twins and hurried after Scrimgeour. They Disapparated a few yards down the road.

Harry slumped into a chair in the kitchen and Ginny helped her mother put Christmas dinner on the table. The rest of the company soon joined them and the room buzzed with talk about the Minister's visit. Remus sat next to Harry, and said in a low voice, "That can't be all of it, there must be something else. The kind of magic we saw out there this morning..." He shook his head in wonderment. "Harry, do you have any idea how powerful that was? Something new like that might not come along for another hundred years."

"I can't explain it," Harry said. Then he grinned. "Except..." He grabbed Ginny's arm as she was passing with a gravy boat in her hand. She yelped, and barely managed to land the dish on the table.

"Sorry." Harry smiled. "My muse," he said to Remus, pulling Ginny next to him; she put her arm around him.

Lupin appraised them. "Listen, let's enjoy dinner. It's a great holiday, and there's a lot to celebrate. After dinner we'll talk." Harry let Ginny go, and chewed his lip. Remus watched him. "Would that be all right with you?"

"It would be all right if it was just you and me. Well, Ginny and Ron and Hermione, too. It was so... so intense. It was like my insides jumped out. I don't want to talk about in front of everyone."

Remus smiled and nodded. "That's fine, Harry, We'll do that."

The meal began, and even as it was happening, Harry and Ginny both felt that it was the best Christmas they had ever had. Harry was starving, and ate more than Ron, to everyone's amusement. Ginny sat next to him; his right leg was entwined with her left under the table. Everyone talked loudly. Moody got drunk on mead, and Tonks discovered that she could completely befuddle him by changing her appearance, then introducing herself as a different witch. Soon the entire table was engulfed in laughter.

The meal ended, and Molly shooed everyone out of the kitchen. Harry stopped Hermione and Ron as they headed for the parlor. "Come upstairs," he said. "I'm going to tell Remus what happened this morning, or what I think happened." He led them and Ginny and Remus up to Ron's room.

"I know I have to tell as much as I can remember," he began, sitting on his cot; Ginny joined him, and the others sat on Ron's bed. "I did not want to tell Scrimgeour anything. He'll just use it for his own purposes."

"Harry, that's not fair," Lupin objected. "Rufus Scrimgeour is very political, but he is on the right side. He does want to defeat Voldemort."

"Fine," Harry said reluctantly, "but I don't credit that apology he gave one bit. You'll be telling everything to Tonks and Kingsley, so Scrimgeour will find out from them."

Remus nodded. "Go ahead, then."

Harry took a breath; Ginny held his hand, and he looked at her. "This morning, Ginny sat on the window sill in her room, and I watched the sun come up behind her. I never saw anything like it. The sun came through her hair and it was like it was on fire. It was like _she_ was on fire, but not burning up. It was so beautiful..." He leaned toward her, then caught himself and grinned at the others.

"I started walking toward her, and I tripped on something and fell on the bed, and that's when her mum came in. I got us both in trouble." He smiled. "I went outside and walked down to the clearing. When the dementors came, I tried Expecto Patronum, but it didn't work. I guess I was too scared, there were so many of them." Harry's voice had dropped to nearly a whisper; Ginny put her hand on his shoulder.

Now Harry spoke with more difficulty. "One of them grabbed me... and pulled me down. It was right over me, and there was... a shadow around it. I think I figured I was going to die. And then, Ginny just flashed into my mind." He turned to her. "You were there in place of the dementor, and you were on fire, just like you were sitting on the sill in your room."

Lupin leaned forward, an eager look on his face; his eyes were almost ferocious. "I think I see where you're going, Harry, but continue."

Harry looked at him. "It was total joy. Ginny had come to save me again, but I knew that she couldn't. I knew that I was going to lose her forever. And then it became total rage. It just came up from inside me and filled me. I've never been as angry as that moment." Once again he faced Ginny. "It was just so unfair that I had seen you like that once, but I would never see you like that again. At that moment I would have killed anyone who was between me and you sitting in that window."

"Go on," Remus whispered.

"I think I stuck my wand in its face, but I know I didn't say anything. And then my stag shot out of the wand, and... and you saw the rest."

They were all silent. Ginny put her arms around him and pressed her cheek to his. "Harry," she spoke softly into his ear. "I love you."

He turned bright pink. "Yes, I... I—" Ginny laughed and kissed him quickly.

Remus stood up; he smiled broadly, and Harry could not remember ever seeing him look so good.

"Harry, you don't mind now if I tell the others, do you?"

Harry shook his head; he did not trust his voice at the moment.

"Good, good!" Remus rubbed his hands together, as though anticipating another feast. "This is wonderful, Harry. This is everything I hoped for when I first saw what you did out there. This is truly a gift." He paused at the door. "It may sound strange, but James and Lily were truly blessed to have you, Harry. And so are we, all of us."

After Remus left, they sat and talked. "I'm gonna try it first thing in the morning," Ron declared. "A dog can be very fiery, don't you think?"

Ginny grinned. "So what would make you deliriously happy and enraged if you lost it? I mean besides food?"

"Well, there is that, but I'm sure I can think of something else."

Hermione smacked him. "You'd better!"

Ron pushed her down on the bed and started tickling her. "Does this make you happy? Or furious?" Hermione pulled him down and rolled over, but the bed was too narrow and they fell onto the floor with a thud. They got up laughing.

"Oh, no," Harry exclaimed, sitting up suddenly; he and Ginny had been half–reclining on the cot. They all looked at him in alarm. "No, no! It's not horrible. I just totally forgot your Christmas presents."

"Oh, Harry, don't worry about it," Ginny said. "No one needs presents from you."

He grinned. "Well, it so happens that I already know what I'm getting you, so it's too late."

"In that case," she laughed, "wake me up early — for the sunrise. And then give me your present."

The conversation went on. Harry started yawning, and then they all did. They walked downstairs, and Ron and Hermione went on down to the first floor; people were still in the parlor, and the wireless was on, playing Muggle Christmas carols. But Harry and Ginny stopped outside her room.

"I really meant it," she said, as Harry took her in his arms. "Come down before dawn. I want to show you something." She giggled.

Harry looked into her face; with his finger he traced her cheeks, her brow, her freckled nose, her lips. He ran his fingers through her hair. He kissed her softly and pressed her against him.

"Ginny," he whispered. "I love you."

They stood for a long time on the landing, not talking much, but saying everything. Finally, Harry walked slowly away and up the stairs. He got into bed and slept like a lover who knows that his love is also sleeping.

Harry awoke while it was still dark out. Ron was asleep, and Hedwig was making scratching noises on her perch. Harry opened the window for her. "Don't go far," he said as she crouched to take off. "I'm going to need you before breakfast."

She hooted softly and sprang into the night. Harry dressed and tiptoed downstairs. He listened at Ginny's door, and then knocked softly. "Harry?" came a sleepy voice.

"It's me," he said quietly.

"Wait a sec." He heard her climb out of bed and the sound of her trunk opening and closing. In a moment the door opened. Ginny peeked from behind it; her hair was tousled, and when she smiled sleepily at him, Harry suddenly lost his bearings; he stared at her with a besotted look.

"Close your mouth," Ginny giggled. "You'll drool all over the floor."

"M—Maybe I shouldn't come in," he stammered.

"Nonsense." She yanked him inside. Just as she closed the door, Harry thought he heard another door down the hall also close quietly. They kissed, then Ginny pushed him away as he started to pull her closer. "I thought you were here to see the sunrise," she giggled again.

Harry took a deep breath, then several more. "Yes, the sunrise." He took more breaths, and grinned. "Will it save my life again?"

"Every time." Ginny glanced at the window; the east was starting to grow light. She sat in the sill, and looked at Harry standing in the dark. "So where's my Christmas present?" she said teasingly.

Harry laughed, and walked to the wall next to the door. "Hedwig has to take the orders to Diagon Alley. She's hunting, but I told her to be back before breakfast."

"Diagon Alley, hmm. A big pot of gold from Gringotts, or another hair clip from that old witch? Which one is it?"

"Neither, and don't ask any more questions, or you won't get anything."

Ginny leaned against the frame and looked at Harry with a small smile. "I love you," she said.

Harry started to walk toward her, but she pointed her finger at him. "Uh, uh. Against the wall."

"You're mean," he grumbled as he backed up to the wall. "Maybe I should forget about your present."

Ginny smiled again, and turned to watch the sun rise. It broke over the horizon, and they could see that the sky was clear. There was no overcast and no mist. Ginny turned so that she was sitting square in the window. The sun climbed, and the golden–red light around her head flooded into the room. Harry stood as though stunned; it was even more beautiful than yesterday. _Ginny_ was more beautiful than yesterday.

When the sun had climbed above her head, Harry came and led her from the window. He kissed her. "I'll be downstairs in a few minutes," he said.

Hedwig was back on her perch, and Harry quickly wrote out two parchments and tied them to her leg. He told her where to deliver them, then dressed and hurried downstairs. He found only the twins in the kitchen; the rest of the house was apparently sleeping in. The outside door was open, and Harry could see a witch and a wizard who he didn't recognize standing in the yard. Fred was blocking them from coming inside, and George stood behind him. They turned their heads when Harry entered.

"'Ere, that's 'im, i'nn it?" the wizard cried; the witch raised a camera, but Fred put his hand over the lens. Harry realized that they must be reporters from the _Daily Prophet_.

"I told you he's still asleep," Fred said. "That's not him. That's his long–lost twin brother, Henry Potter. They found him a couple of days ago in Surrey."

The wizard frowned. "You don't expect me to believe that, do yer?"

"Actually, I do. I said no pictures!" He pushed the witch back as a flash went off.

At that moment Ginny came down the stairs and stopped when she saw the strangers.

"Now, who's that?" The wizard pointed his quill at Ginny. "That's 'is girlfriend, i'nn it? Miss Weasley," he called, "was you the inspiration for Harry's new Patronus? Were you with him when he burned up them dementors?"

"Fred, let me talk to him," Harry said. "They'll never leave us alone if I don't." He stepped outside, and Ginny joined him. "Nothing about her, though," Harry ordered. "I don't want to see her name in the paper."

"Harry!" Ginny poked him and glared. "Maybe I want to be in it."

Harry looked at her for a moment. "You're right," he murmured. "I'm sorry."

The witch was taking photographs, and the wizard's quill was writing it all down in a notebook. Harry took the wizard's arm and pulled him away from the house. "Look," he said in as cordial a voice as he could muster, "why don't we walk down to the field where it all happened? Won't that appeal to your readers?"

"I already got shots of that," the witch said.

"Yeah, but not wi' him," the wizard replied. "'At's a good idear. Let's go."

Harry took Ginny's hand. "That was the old me," he said in a low voice as they proceeded down the lane. "I'm sorry."

"I know." she smiled. "Old or new, it doesn't matter to me."

The witch photographer ran in front and took pictures of them as they walked. Harry looked around the clearing when they got there; all of the remains were gone, and only clumps of charred grass were left to show that the clearing had been on fire. He started talking before the wizard could ask questions, telling the same story he had told Rufus Scrimgeour, and mentioning nothing of what he had said last night to Remus and the others. "So it was a combination of happiness and anger," he finished, "but really, really raging anger, you might say. I felt like I was burning up inside, and I suppose that's why my Patronus was fiery."

"Innerestin', very innerestin'. The readers are gonna lap this up." The wizard grinned, then looked at Ginny. "So yer 'arry's girlfriend?" Ginny blushed, and the witch snapped a photo. "No need to answer that one," the wizard grinned again. "Well, 'arry, thanks, and we got to get back to London. Deadline's in an hour for the afternoon edition. I 'spect this'll be front page." He grinned again. The two stepped back and Disapparated.

"That article should be innerestin'," Ginny said, "but I'm not sure I understand why you did it."

"Well, people do have to know," Harry answered. "And the more it gets around, the more Voldemort may think he has to do something. If people aren't frightened as much, then he has less power, and I think that frightens _him_ more than anything."

"I think you're right." Ginny stopped and put her arms around him; they were only a few yards from the house. "It's going to get very dangerous, isn't it?"

Harry nodded.

"Then I'm even more glad that you and I..." Ginny's words tailed off, and they just looked at each other.

"Oi!" Ron called from the doorway. "Some presents came. One's for you, Ginny. Come on, I want to open them!"

Three boxes wrapped in Christmas paper were sitting on the kitchen table. Two were long and narrow, and one was square. Hermione and Ron stood impatiently; the twins and several others were sitting, speculating about the packages' contents.

Harry handed the square box to Hermione. She ripped the paper off and tore the box open. Inside was a small, leather–bound book. Embossed on the cover in gold lettering were the words _Encyclopaedia Magica - Compact Edition_.

"Oh, Harry!" she squealed. "This is wonderful! I've been looking at this in Flourish and Blotts for years, but I could never, ever afford it. Thank you!" She hugged him.

Ron opened the book and leafed through a few pages. "I thought there were twenty or thirty volumes to this," he said. "It can't be all in here, the print's too big."

Hermione took it from him. "No, Ron, it works like this. You touch your wand here —" she put her wand on a tiny owl on the spine — "and whichever volume you want is there when you open it. See? Volume eleven: Goblin Rebellions through Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

Ron shook his head as Hermione dove into the book. "That's the last we'll see of her for a month."

"Don't you want to open yours?" Harry pushed one of the long packages to Ron, and handed the other to Ginny. "Merry Christmas, Ginny."

She pulled the paper off and opened the box. Her eyes bulged and her jaw dropped. Inside were a red rose and a Firebolt broomstick. Her hand shook as she picked it up. "Harry, you shouldn't have. They're so expensive. It's beautiful!"

"You really know the way to a girl's heart, my boy," George cracked.

"Shut up, George," Ginny told him. 'You're jealous. Harry, thank you!" She threw herself at him, almost knocking him to the floor.

Ron, meanwhile, was staring at his own Firebolt as if he was worshiping it. Harry beamed while Ginny planted kisses on him. Both brooms were passed around the room for everyone to admire.

"I notice you didn't get a rose," Fred remarked to Ron. "Is that because you're ugly or Ginny's beautiful?"

Ron didn't hear him. "Come on!" he said to Harry excitedly. "Let's try them out."

"Harry, you can borrow one of ours," George said as he glanced out the window. "Who is that?"

In the ruckus over the brooms, no one had noticed two people Apparating outside the yard. Ginny looked and gave a cry of delight. "Elspeth!"

Everyone spilled outside. Elspeth and Edward Pendragon stood together; Elspeth still had her hand on her father's elbow, and in the other she held Harry's Firebolt. "We brought it back for you, Harry," she called. "What a neat house! Is this the Burrow, Ginny?"

Harry and Ginny stood on the edge of the commotion, watching as different people told Edward about the events of the past two days. Edward looked at Harry. "You've had quite a week, haven't you, Harry? How is your foot?"

"It's fine, sir," Harry said. "I have the best Healer in Britain to take care of it." He grinned at Ginny. "Are you ready to fly?" he asked her.

They walked down the lane to the clearing; Elspeth was at their side, chattering away about the Hogwarts Quidditch team. Behind them came Ron and Hermione and the rest of the Weasley family and their friends. Harry marveled at the clear sky, at the girl walking beside him who was looking over her new broomstick with an expression of wonder and delight that filled his heart. But another sensation was growing in him, something new, something he had never felt before. When he looked at Ginny, it surged; the people behind him seemed like a tide bearing it along. The feeling had strength in it. He did not know what to make of it.

They entered the clearing and Harry and Ginny took off together into the cloudless sky. They soared around the clearing, whooping and shouting. Ron joined them. They saw their friends and family waving to them from below. They could see Hermione sitting on the ground with her head bent over the _Encyclopaedia Magica_ in her lap. Harry and Ginny hovered and watched Ron maneuver his broom as though he was defending a Quidditch goal.

"They'll never score on me again!" he exulted. "This broom moves even when you just think about it!" He was exhilarated.

"You know what?" Harry looked keenly at Ginny. "I want to go back to Hogwarts as soon as possible. I have a hunch we can find the fifth Horcrux there, and then we can take on Voldemort."

Ginny was startled by Harry's change of subject and change of demeanor. "That's okay with me, but why all of a sudden?"

"I'm not sure. But something's different." He gave her the same keen look. "Ginny, I can feel something inside me. It's hard to describe. I don't know what it is, but it's... strong. If we go back to Hogwarts, I can figure it out."

Ginny was not sure what to make of it, but she remembered what she had told herself after the talk with her mum. "Let's go pack," she said.


	13. The Words of Dumbledore

**Chapter Thirteen**

**The Words of Dumbledore**

As soon as Ginny, Harry, and Ron landed, they pulled Hermione out of her book and told her they were returning to Hogwarts, that day if possible. Everyone else had gone back to the Burrow, and when the four entered the kitchen everyone else was also preparing to leave and saying their goodbyes. Arthur, Tonks, and Kingsley were leaving for the Ministry; the twins, Bill, and Fleur were off to Diagon Alley; Hermione's parents were returning to their home; and the Pendragons were off to visit relatives in Scotland before Elspeth went back to school. Hermione decided to go with her parents before returning to the Burrow and Flooing into Hogwarts to rejoin her friends there.

Lupin and Moody were returning to twelve Grimmauld Place. New circumstances called for new plans to fight Voldemort, and someone needed to be where other members of the Order could come to learn the new magic that Harry had discovered.

Remus pulled Harry aside. "We tried your Patronus last night," he said. "We're all close, very close. It would be good if you taught it to Ron and Hermione and Ginny up at school."

"What will happen now?" Harry asked. "Will the Ministry really go after Voldemort?"

Lupin sighed. "I've thought before that they would. We'll just have to see."

After the taxi came to take Hermione and her parents, only Ron, Ginny, and Harry were left with Mrs. Weasley. When Ron told her their plans, she turned to Ginny, who was feeding Harry a sausage at the table; Ginny put it down when her mother looked.

"I'd like you to wait until tomorrow," Molly said. "I think your father should know."

"So send him an owl," Ron suggested with a mouth full of scrambled eggs.

"Well, we could do that... Still, it's kind of sudden."

Ginny was watching her mother. "Mum, is it that you don't want to be alone? We can wait a day, can't we?" she asked Harry.

"Of course," Harry nodded. "That's fine, Mrs. Weasley. No problem."

Molly looked relieved, and started putting food away. She stopped suddenly and stared at the Weasley family clock. The hands were now pointing slightly away from Mortal Peril. "Look!" she cried, and turned to Harry. "Harry! You've changed the hands!"

"What? I didn't mean to. I mean — Oh, I see." He grinned, embarrassed. "I don't think it was me."

"You're the savior of the Weasley family," Ginny declared. He turned red and put his head down. Molly smiled and started humming Christmas carols as she finished cleaning up the kitchen.

They decided that Harry would start teaching Ron how to conjure a fiery Patronus, and after breakfast the three went outside. As they walked to the clearing Harry spoke to Ginny.

"I wish you wouldn't say that stuff, I'm not anyone's savior. I don't' even know if I can save myself."

"I was only joking," Ginny answered. "But I do like to say things like that to you."

"Well, I wish you wouldn't."

"Okay, then I won't."

"I mean, if you really want to, I guess it's okay."

No, no. If you don't like it, I won't do it."

"It's okay, really. I didn't mean to be bossy."

"It wasn't bossy. You were right."

"No, you were right. I shouldn't tell you what to say."

Ron put his hands over his ears. "Bloody hell, will you two stop it? Even Hermione and I don't talk like that."

"The ultimate put–down," Ginny laughed. She took Harry's hands and pressed herself against him. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to embarrass you."

"Why do you torture me like this?" Harry mumbled as, ignoring Ron, he gathered her in and kissed her.

"Cough, cough," Ron said loudly after several minutes. "Aren't we here to learn some magic?"

"We did," Harry and Ginny both said at the same time, and giggled. Harry reluctantly separated himself from her. He took out his wand and smiled at Ginny. "I know what my happy memory will be this time."

Harry shut his eyes and thought back to the dementor attack. In a moment the golden–white stag burst from his wand. It galloped off to the end of the clearing and stopped. Its eyes glowed like coals; it pawed the ground and sparks shot from its hoof. It looked around the clearing once, then at Harry, and vanished.

Ginny and Ron stood transfixed. "My God, that was beautiful!" Ron said. "It didn't see anything to attack, so it disappeared, right?" He looked questioningly at Harry.

"I guess so. Go ahead, you try it."

He moved aside and stood next to Ginny. Ron pointed his wand, looked back at Harry, and closed his eyes. After a few minutes, something white and shapeless popped out of his wand and fell to the ground. The grass underneath it started smoking, and Ron jumped back and let out a yell. "Hey, it's working! I did it!"

"Well, at least that patch of grass won't be attacking you again anytime soon," Ginny said dryly.

Ron scowled. "Go ahead, if you're so brilliant. Let's see what you can do."

"I can't, Ronald. I'm underage. I ought to report you for encouraging the illegal use of magic."

Ron worked for almost an hour until he was exhausted. His Patronus never flew, but it started to look more and more like a Jack Russell terrier, and it set enough of the clearing on fire that Harry had to use Aguamenti to put it out.

Hermione arrived in the early evening, surprised to find them still there. Ron stayed with her in the kitchen while she ate, and Harry and Ginny found themselves alone in the parlor with a toasty fire crackling. Ginny curled up next to Harry on the sofa, her head on his shoulder.

"Did you see the article in the _Prophet_?" she asked. "It was all over the front page. So was your photo."

"I didn't see it. Was your picture in it?"

"On page five. It was awful, it made my hair look like radishes."

"Your hair is beautiful." Harry ran his fingers through it. "How was the article?"

"Pretty good, actually. That reporter sounded like a moron when he was here, but the story was intelligent, believe it or not."

"Well," Harry sighed, "I won't be the only notorious one at Hogwarts now. Everyone will be asking you about it."

They watched the fire in silence. Ginny snuggled closer to Harry. "It's going to seem very different at school," she purred. "I used to spend so much time thinking about you, and then thinking about me. Now I'll just think about us."

"Do you know what I'm looking forward to?" Harry said as the fire snapped and sparks flew onto the hearth. "Not fighting anything but Voldemort. Not fighting you, not looking for reasons to avoid you, not fighting to keep you out of my mind."

"I like being there," Ginny giggled.

Harry put his arm around her. "This is the calm before the storm, you know. We might not have another peaceful moment like this for a long time. Or ever."

Ginny sat up; her eyes were bright. "I know," she whispered, "so let's make the most of it. Discretely," she added with a smile. "My parents..."

"I can be very discreet," Harry said, and pulled her closer.

The next morning, shortly after Arthur left for work and Fleur arrived to stay with Molly, they all gathered in the kitchen. Ginny wore her dragon–hide boots, and her lion clasp in her hair. Molly was not totally happy about spending the entire day with her daughter–in–law, but no one else could come stay with her. She took a pot of floo powder from the cupboard; she was already crying.

"You all must promise you'll be careful. Harry, dear," she hugged him tightly, "this is your home now, you know that, don't' you?" She held him at arms length and smiled at him. "I am so happy that you and Ginny will be together now. You'll look after her, won't you?"

"Of course," he mumbled, once more embarrassed.

Harry stepped into the fireplace first, and when he emerged in Professor McGonagall's office she was sitting behind her desk and Professor Dumbledore was in the foreground of his portrait, peering over her shoulder at the parchment before her. He looked up.

"Harry!" he beamed. "So good to see you. I hear you've been quite busy this holiday."

McGonagall gave Harry a dry look. "How nice to see you, Mr. Potter. So you've decided to return to Hogwarts?"

"Yes, Ma'am," Harry grinned. "It's like a second home, you know."

"Oh, and which is your first home? Surely not Privet Drive?"

There was a flash of green flame, and Ginny stumbled out of the fireplace; Harry grabbed her hand and grinned again. "No, not Privet Drive."

Dumbledore chuckled. "Well, Miss Weasley, I'm glad to see you got him to come to his senses. Although, as I understand, it took some magical convincing of a very unpleasant sort to help the process along. Seriously, though, Harry, you've done some very special things this past week. I hope you realize that."

Harry was spared having to acknowledge this embarrassing compliment by the arrival of Ron in a large cloud of ashes and smoke.

"Went too far," he coughed, and started brushing off his clothes.

"Mr. Weasley!" Professor McGonagall barked. "That's a seven–hundred year old carpet you're making a mess on! I'll thank you to desist, clean it up, and remove yourself from my office!"

"Boy, some things never change," Ron muttered as they made their way to Gryffindor Tower. "She's been getting on my nerves for a while."

Hermione, who had appeared in an even larger cloud of ash just as Ron finished cleaning the rug, was unsympathetic. "You told your mum she wasn't giving us enough Floo powder. Next time let someone who knows what they're doing measure it. Ugh. Now I have to wash my hair again."

They climbed through the portrait hole using the password that the Headmistress had given them, with a nod to Harry: "Clear skies above." The common room was empty. A fire was lit, though, and Harry noticed two small feet with unmatched socks sticking out from one of the chairs in front of the fireplace, and they could hear snoring. They went over and found Dobby, asleep with a large bouquet of wild flowers in his hand. They stood in front of him, whispering to each other, wondering why he was there.

Dobby awoke with a start, and jumped up in the chair. "Harry Potter! It is you!" he squealed. He tried to bow, but lost his balance on the cushion, and would have fallen if Harry hadn't caught him.

"Dobby," Harry laughed, "what are you doing here? What are those flowers?" He tried to hide his amusement.

"Harry Potter must not ask why Dobby would be here. Dobby hears that Harry Potter and his friends are coming back to school early, and so Dobby makes a nice fire for them and brings a bunch of pretty flowers for Harry's old–new girlfriend!" The house–elf blushed, and bowed to Ginny, and this time he fell off the chair before Harry could catch him.

"Dobby, that's so sweet." Ginny helped the elf stand, and took the bouquet. "They'll be beautiful in my room."

Dobby smiled and blinked, and took off his hats. "We hears about Ginny Weasley, and guess what? For dinner tonight, everyone at Hogwarts will share a special feast in her honor." He beamed, and bowed to Ginny again. "Now Dobby must go back to work. Welcome back to Hogwarts!" He jumped back into the chair, and vanished.

"Now that's a welcome–and–a–half," Ron said. "Word travels fast in the house–elf world." He grinned at Harry.

Harry was frowning at the chair where Dobby had taken his leave. "I've been wondering about something," he said thoughtfully. "I think we need to pay Dobby a visit, after we get settled in." They looked at him, but he said no more.

They went up to their rooms to see if their trunks had arrived, and then Harry, Ron, and Ginny waited in the common room in front of the fire Dobby had made while Hermione went to take a shower. When they were all together again, Harry announced that he wanted to go down to the kitchen immediately and talk to Dobby.

"About what?" Hermione asked. "How long will it take? Ginny and I want to try a fiery Patronus."

"I don't think very long," Harry answered.

They went down to the basement corridor, tickled the pear in the bowl of fruit, and entered the kitchen. A cry went up, and dozens of smiling elves surrounded them. Dobby, with countless hats piled on his head, pushed his way through, but he wore an uncustomary wary look on his face as he addressed them. "Harry Potter comes to the kitchen and Dobby is glad to see him, but Dobby thinks he is not here just to say 'hello, Dobby, how is you?'"

"Well, that's right." Harry glanced at his friends. "I was wondering if we could ask you something, but not here."

Dobby nodded solemnly, and led them out of the kitchen; the other elves whispered to each other, and cast questioning looks at Dobby. He sighed. "They thinks Dobby is not a very good house–elf," he said when they were in the corridor, "but they likes me because Harry Potter is my friend."

"You are my friend," Harry told him. "You've helped me a lot, Dobby, and I need more help now. But let's not talk here."

They went back up to the still empty common room and settled around the fireplace. They all looked at Harry in anticipation, but Dobby also seemed uneasy. "What does Harry Potter want to know?" the elf asked.

"Dobby," Harry said quietly, "the house–elves know everything that happens at Hogwarts, don't they?"

"Oh, yes, yes, they does. Most wizards and witches are not like Harry Potter. They doesn't pay any attention to poor house–elves, ever. So house–elves gets to see what _they_ does, and they don't notice!" He smiled.

"Right. So, if a student, say, was hiding something, a house–elf might see him do it."

Dobby hesitated, and looked uncomfortably at Harry. "Does Harry Potter know who was hiding something?"

"I'm not sure he hid anything, Dobby. But I think you know who I mean."

Dobby expression became miserable. He peered up at Harry, and his large, green eyes began to fill with tears. "Harry Potter wants to know about He–Who–Must–Not–Be–Named."

"Dobby, many years ago, after he was a student, Voldemort came back and asked Headmaster Dumbledore for a job as a teacher. He didn't get the job, but he may have hidden something here. Do you think any of the house–elves saw him do it, or maybe they heard stories about it from an elf who was here then?"

The elf began to shake. He put his face in his hands and began to weep.

Hermione leaned forward and put her hand on Dobby's shoulder. "Why are you frightened?" she asked gently. "He can't hurt you as long as you're at Hogwarts."

"Oh, Miss Granger! Then how did evil wizards get inside Hogwarts castle and kill Professor Dumbledore?" he said between sobs. "Harry Potter asks Dobby a question, and Dobby must answer because Harry Potter is the greatest wizard in the world, and is Dobby's best friend." He broke down completely, howling and moaning, his body heaving with sobs.

Harry stood up, aghast. "Dobby, no! I didn't want to upset you. Please, stop crying. I didn't mean it."

He looked helplessly at Hermione. She knelt in front of the elf and stroked his arm. Dobby gradually calmed down; soon his sobs had become hiccups, and then sniffles. Harry sat down again; he looked almost as stricken as Dobby, and Ginny took his hand. Dobby peeked at her, and sniffed a few more times.

"Ginny Weasley is beautiful, and she is in grave danger," he squeaked. "But so is all of us, especially after Dobby tells —. Oh!" He jumped up from the chair, gave a loud shriek, and disappeared.

They sat in stunned silence. Finally Ron spoke. "Well, that could have gone better."

"Harry," Hermione said, "do you really believe if Voldemort hid a Horcrux in the castle, that Dumbledore wouldn't know?"

"If you think about it, there's lots of things he didn't know, like the Chamber of Secrets. Or Dumbledore's Army. He always said that he didn't know everything about Hogwarts."

Ginny spoke for the first time. "How did you know that Voldemort came here for a job?"

Harry told her about the memory Dumbledore had shown him in the pensieve. Ginny thought for a moment. "But you have to make a Horcrux by killing someone, and if Voldemort had murdered someone here, surely we would have heard of it. And there would be another ghost hanging around like Moaning Myrtle."

"Maybe you can make a Horcrux in one place and carry it to another," Ron suggested.

"That's right," Hermione said. "There's a lot we don't know about them."

Again they sat in silence, but they watched Harry.

He passed his hand over his eyes. "I don't know either. But something's really scaring Dobby, and maybe it has to do with the Horcrux, or maybe it just has to do with Voldemort. He could have done something to the house–elves when he came back. Or maybe he did something to them when he was a student."

"We can try asking him later," Ginny said.

Harry shook his head. "I don't want to do that to him again."

Ginny pressed his arm. "Then let's go outside. I want to try a fiery Patronus."

They went downstairs and walked to an open area on the lawn just outside the castle entrance. It was cloudy, and a light mist obscured the hills across the lake, but it was not nearly as foggy as it had been before Christmas. Once again, Harry produced a stag with red eyes and hooves that flamed. Ron's dog was still not completely formed, but it was recognizable and stayed in the air for a few seconds.

"That's good, Ron!" Hermione said. "Let me try it now."

She walked forward a few paces and extended her wand. A pure white otter emerged; it landed on the ground in front of her, and then shot across the grass, leaving a scorched path behind it. But it vanished almost immediately.

"Not bad at all," Harry observed. "Especially for a first try."

"Actually, I practiced at home a bit," Hermione said with a blush. "Mum and Dad were at work, so I went out into the back yard. It's got big shrubs all around and no one can see!" she added hastily, as the others reacted with varying degrees of shock.

"Okay, if you say so," Harry responded. "Ginny?"

Ginny looked at him so fiercely for a moment that Harry was taken aback. Before he could say anything she turned and pointed her wand, but like Ron's first try, a shapeless blob emerged that dropped to the ground. The grass immediately caught fire, and the others had to stomp it out.

"It looks like the Weasley syndrome," Harry teased. "You've got something there, but who knows what it is?"

Ginny scowled at him, and, without taking her eyes from his, pointed her wand out across the lawn. This time she produced a recognizable phoenix, the same color as Harry's stag. It, too, vanished almost immediately. "Syndrome that!" she proclaimed.

Harry laughed. "Ginny, you are spectacular! I love you!"

"Hah! It's my bird you love, not me."

"I love you and your bird and your lion." He reached out with his wand and touched the golden lion clasp in her hair. A flash of light sparked from the clasp, and Harry jumped back. Ginny turned, looking for the source of the light.

"It's your hair thing!" Ron cried. "I thought it wasn't supposed to be magical."

"It wasn't," Ginny said. "George tested it when I bought it. Harry, you did something to it."

Harry was holding his wand up and examining it. "I wasn't trying to do magic," he said in a puzzled voice.

"Strange," Hermione said. "You should ask Professor Flitwick to look at your wand again. Maybe it got damaged in the graveyard."

Harry shook his head. "It's working fine."

Ron started to talk about lunch, so they went back inside and straight into the Great Hall. Only a few students had stayed at school over the holiday, and they all came over to the Gryffindor table. Everyone had read the story in the _Prophet_ about the destruction of the dementors at the Burrow, and everyone had questions for Harry and Ginny. After the meal the four went back to the common room. Harry and Ron went up to the boys' dormitory, and Ginny and Hermione went to their rooms. Harry was soon back downstairs, as was Ginny. When Hermione followed, she glanced at them, and then quickly went up the boys' staircase. After a quarter of an hour Harry grunted. "I guess they're busy. Want to take a walk around the castle?"

As they left the common room, Ginny noticed that Harry was carrying his Invisibility cloak and the Marauder's Map. "Will we be needing those?" she asked.

"You can never tell," Harry answered.

They wandered through the corridors, holding hands, lost in their thoughts and not talking. Being back at school had made Harry realize that in less than six months he would be finished at Hogwarts, and he wondered if he would live to see it. The instant he had chosen to return to Ginny, a desperation to survive this war had begun to grow inside him. Before, there were times when he thought he might not care very much about living, as long as Voldemort was dead. Now it had all changed. He squeezed her hand.

Ginny returned the pressure, and she realized in turn that she and Harry were now on their own, away from her parents, and that their time was their own. It certainly felt different from when they were together last year. Now she felt completely included in Harry's plans and, more and more, in almost every moment of Harry's thoughts. She had felt a change in his temper in the last few minutes, and marveled, in a flood of emotion, that she could sense his mood so readily; this one seemed somber. She squeezed his hand.

Soon they were back on the seventh floor in front of the tapestry with Barnabas the Barmy and his dancing trolls. Harry stopped at the wall where the door to the Room of Requirement would be.

Ginny nodded. "I was wondering when we would get to this place. This is where you think Voldemort hid the Horcrux, isn't it?"

Harry frowned. "It's almost too obvious, though, don't you think?"

"Maybe, but you have to get in, first of all. Then you have to deal with the Horcrux. I don't think any of that will be easy."

Harry started pacing in front of the wall. _I need to hide a Horcrux_, he thought_. I need to hide something very dangerous. I require a place to hide something I don't ever want anyone else to find._ Nothing happened.

Ginny tried it, then Harry again, then both of them together. They repeated everything, and the wall stayed blank.

"Damn!" Harry muttered. "I was so sure we could find it here."

Ginny cried out, then covered her mouth as the sound echoed down the hallway. She looked at Harry triumphantly. "That's it! We don't need to hide a Horcrux, we need to find one!"

"That's too easy. It can't be that."

"Just try it." Ginny gave him a little push, and he started walking again. _I need to find a Horcrux_, he thought, and on his third pass a door appeared in the wall. Harry reached for the handle and started to open it, but Ginny grabbed his arm and pulled it back. "Wait," she said, "let's get Hermione and Ron first." Harry frowned, but he saw the anxiety on her face and let go of the handle; he turned his head away from her and stared at the door.

"I want to go in there as soon as possible," he said. "I need to get it over with, Ginny. I'm sorry, I know it's scary and unfair, but until it's all over we'll never have any peace."

_You mean peace inside yourself_, Ginny thought. "Come on," she urged, "let's go back to the common room. Maybe they're waiting there." She started to pull him away from the door, but looked down. Mrs. Norris was sitting at their feet, gazing at them with unblinking eyes.

"Oh, no!" Ginny whispered. "Filch must have heard me yell."

Harry quickly unfolded the map, touched it with his wand and muttered, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." As the halls and rooms of the castle appeared on it, they saw that Filch was only a few yards from the corner at the end of the corridor. Harry pulled Ginny away from the door, which vanished, and threw the Invisibility cloak over them both.

Argus Filch came around the corner and walked slowly to the spot where Mrs. Norris was still sitting and still staring in the direction of Harry and Ginny. "Is anyone up here, my sweet?" He peered around the hall, and his gaze passed over them. They were holding each other tightly; Ginny pressed her head against Harry's cheek and then kissed it gently. He lifted her face and kissed her lips. His tongue slipped inside her mouth, and she gave a little moan and slapped his back.

"Who's there?" Filch called angrily. "You can't hide forever. I'll find you sooner or later!"

Harry still had his wand in his hand. He lifted it and pointed down the corridor. A torch mounted on the wall flared, and Filch spun around. "Got you now!" he shouted, and ran down the hall and around the corner. Mrs. Norris hadn't moved; she was still sitting and staring at them.

Ginny threw the cloak off, and tried to sound angry. "You are evil! You could have got us both detention even before school begins!"

"You started it," Harry said innocently, "and you were the one who made all the noise."

"Well, see if I ever go under that cloak with you again. I'll bet you've used it to lure innocent young witches to their downfall."

"Only one." Harry grinned, and Ginny kissed him. "Wait, look," he said, and pointed to the map. Ron and Hermione were sitting in the common room.

They left Mrs. Norris in front of the tapestry and hurried away. Hermione looked up from the _Encyclopaedia Magica_ when they came through the portrait hole: Ron was asleep in the chair next to her.

"We found it," Harry announced. "We found the Horcrux."

"Huh?" Ron woke up and looked around. "Who did you find?"

"Mr. Horcrux," Ginny said, and Harry chortled. "He's in the Room of Requirement."

"What's he doing there?" Ron was still befuddled.

Hermione snapped her book shut and stood up, looking amazed. "How did you figure it out?"

"It was Ginny," Harry said. "I kept trying to think of a place to hide one, then she said we didn't want to hide one, we wanted to find one."

"Well, that's obvious," Ron declared, now completely awake.

"Thanks for the help, Ron," Ginny said. "Now explain why it was so easy."

"We didn't go in yet," Harry added. "We thought it would be best if we came and got you first." Ginny put her hand on his shoulder briefly, and he smiled at her.

Hermione was frowning. "I can think of one reason why it would be easy," she said. "If Voldemort ever wanted to come back for it, he would want it to be as simple as possible to get to, assuming he could get into the castle itself. But if the first part is easy, then the second part must be a killer. Remember, it wasn't that hard for you and Dumbledore to get into the cave, but look how hard it was to get the locket out of the bowl."

"I know," Harry said. "But we have to try."

Ginny was beginning to feel another touch of uneasiness. Hermione's words made it sink in that they were about to do something at least as dangerous as Harry's entering the Chamber of Secrets to confront the basilisk. But this time, Fawkes could not come to scratch out its eyes and deliver the sword of Godric Gryffindor. Harry could die today, soon.

Harry looked at her. "Are you all right?"

She shook her head. Her throat was dry; she had to swallow before she could answer. "I'm frightened, Harry. One of us could die in there."

He put his arms around her, and kissed her. He said, looking into her eyes, "I heard Professor Dumbledore say more than once that there are worse things than death. He said it to Voldemort, the night we all almost died in the Department of Mysteries. I think I've learned, just in the last four days, that living without you would be worse than death. But another thing worse than death is living in the same world as Voldemort. Ginny, he _will_ try to kill me. The only hope I have is to kill him first."

He stopped, and a light came into his eyes. "There's one more hope, and it's something else that Dumbledore said, so many times that it must have made him sick to repeat it. It's stupidly simple, and that's probably why it's taken me so long to get it. Ginny, I love you, and that's why we will win."

Ginny held Harry tightly. After a moment, she pushed away. "I'm ready," she said softly; she wiped her cheeks, and started for the portrait hole.

Hermione gave Harry, then Ron, a quick hug, and they followed Ginny out of the common room and around to the corridor outside the Room of Requirement. Mrs. Norris was gone, but a small brown shape was huddled at the bottom of the tapestry against the wall.

"Dobby," Harry said gently, squatting next to him. "You didn't have to come here."

The house–elf had been weeping, and he took off one of his hats and blew his nose into it. Hermione reached in and took it.

"Don't do that, Dobby," she said. "I'll make handkerchiefs for you, lots of them."

"Thank you, Miss Granger," he sniffed, and looked at Harry. "Dobby knew that you were coming here, Harry Potter, and Dobby knows what is inside the Come and Go Room, and what must happen. Please, Harry Potter, do not go in there!" He took off another hat as he began to sob and his nose began to run again.

"No." Harry stopped Hermione from taking the hat. "Dobby, you don't have to come inside. Stay outside and warn us if someone's coming, like you did when Umbridge was here."

Dobby blew his nose and stood up. "Dobby must do what Dobby must do," he declared in as forceful a voice as Harry had ever heard from him. He marched to the opposite wall. "Open it!"

Harry began pacing, and the door appeared. They all took out their wands. Ginny's heart was pounding; Ron swallowed and clenched his fist; Hermione was white as a sheet. Dobby looked at Harry. Harry turned the handle, opened the door, and peered inside. No one moved for several moments. Harry looked back, pushed the door wider, and went in. Dobby followed, and then the others. The door closed behind them and they lit their wands.

They were in a very large, windowless room with a ceiling crisscrossed by arches. It was about a hundred feet square. There was nothing in it except a low platform at the far end; on it there were many objects that gave off a soft glow. They walked toward it. As they approached, they could see that the objects were arranged in a large circle, with a small, indistinguishable mound in the center. When they got within a few yards, they stopped. The room was very quiet.

Each of the objects in the circle was identical: a glass case with a gold necklace inside. Each necklace had a small medallion attached with an ornate "R" engraved on it, surrounded by tiny, blue gems. They were all glowing with the same yellowish luminescence that Merlin's wand had shown when it was lying on Merope's coffin. Ron was the first to recognize the thing in the center, and the first to speak.

"That's a house–elf," he whispered, "and it looks dead."

Dobby moaned, and Harry turned to him. "Is that who was killed to make the Horcrux?" he asked in a low voice.

Dobby nodded; he was crying silently and trembling almost uncontrollably. He put his arm around Harry's leg and held it tightly.

Hermione walked up to the low platform. Ron hissed at her, "What are you doing? Get back!" She ignored him and walked part–way around, counting the glass cases.

"It's a Death Circle," she said almost matter–of–factly when she came back to the others. "I read about them yesterday in the _Magica_, volume four."

"You already read four volumes?" Ron said in amazement.

"I'm almost finished volume six. But this is not good, Harry." She pointed to the platform. "We're in no danger, as long as we don't touch anything in the circle. There are forty-eight necklaces, one less than seven times seven. A Death Circle. All of the objects are identical, except in this case one of them contains part of Voldemort's soul. I have no idea which one. The circle was created by someone's death, and the only way to break it is if someone else dies. If anyone touches any of the objects before the circle is broken, then he'll die, which of course will break the circle. But even if we break the circle, we'd still have to figure which necklace is the real Horcrux and how to destroy it. It's horrible, sickening logic."

"Something that Voldemort would love," Harry said. "Dobby, do you know who the house–elf was?"

Dobby shook his head. He glanced sideways at Harry, who suddenly realized what Dobby was thinking. He grabbed the elf, and pulled him away from the platform; the others watched in astonishment.

"Dobby," Harry said in as commanding a tone as possible, "you will NOT touch anything in that circle! I order you to leave it alone!"

"Harry Potter is not Dobby's master," Dobby said stubbornly. "Dobby does what Dobby pleases."

"Dammit, Dobby, don't be an idiot! We'll figure out some other way."

"Malfoys used to call Dobby names, too."

"Are you saying I'm like Lucius Malfoy?" Harry was getting angry. "He would have killed you to get at that circle. Why are you doing this?"

Dobby's bulging eyes grew even wider. "It is the only way Harry Potter can kill He–Who–Must–Not–Be–Named, isn't it? Dobby would not mind dying for that. Wouldn't Harry Potter choose to die if he knew it would give Dobby the power to kill that one?"

This took Harry by surprise. It was almost as if Dobby had read his emotions, but his emotions from a week ago, not today. He knelt down in front of Dobby and took his hand. "I did use to think that," he said, "but not any more. There's someone else now. You know who I mean. Didn't you ever have someone like Ginny?"

Dobby also knelt. "You is meaning Winky?"

"Yes. Wouldn't you want to live, if you knew that Winky would miss you horribly?"

Ginny came and knelt next to Harry, and there were tears in her eyes. "I would miss you, too," she said to Dobby.

"Ginny Weasley would miss Dobby?" The elf's voice quivered. "Oh." Tears flowed down his face; he took off a hat and wiped them, then blew his nose; they heard Hermione's exasperated "tisk."

Dobby rose to his feet; he took both of their hands and led them back to Ron and Hermione. Hermione stood nervously, her wand at the ready if he should try to jump onto the platform. But Dobby patted her hand. "Do not worry any more, Miss Granger. Dobby isn't wanting to die now. Dobby is not wanting to hurt his best friends."

"That's how we all feel." Hermione smiled, but did not lower her wand.

They stood and stared at the platform and the necklaces in their jewel–like cases. They dimmed their wands; the yellow glow gave enough light for them to see without much difficulty. But gradually they became aware of another light. It was red, and at first they didn't know where it came from. Then Ron turned around, and swore. They all looked. The entire front wall was radiating a dull red light, as though a source of heat was inside it. There was no longer a door in the wall.

"We can't get out," Hermione said.


	14. Shattered Glass

**Chapter Fourteen**

**Shattered Glass**

They sat or lay on the floor near the wall where the door had been. They all faced the platform, even though that meant they could not easily see each other; no one wanted to sit in a circle. Their faces had a sickly cast from the glowing necklaces, like pages from an old Muggle newspaper. They didn't know how much time had passed. The room was absolutely quiet when they were not moving or talking or wailing. The yellow and red luminescence from opposite sides was steady.

Hermione was lost in thought, but kept her eye on Dobby, who let out frequent high–pitched wails that had started when he first saw the red wall. Ron lay on his back with his arms folded on his chest and a scowl on his face. Ginny sat hunched over with her arms around her knees. She turned to watch Harry who was trying another futile charm on the blank wall.

"It's no use," Ron said angrily, raising himself on his elbow. "We'll starve to death in here, Voldemort will find our bones and die laughing, and that'll be the end of it."

"Shut up, Ron," Ginny snapped. "No one's going to die. And your stomach growling is not the same as starving to death."

"My stomach isn't growling. You are."

"That's clever, Ron."

"Just pipe down, will you?" Ron rolled so that his back was to her.

"I didn't say anything, you did," Ginny muttered.

Dobby's wail got louder. Ron swore and stood up and covered his ears.

"Bloody hell, Dobby! Will you stop that?" he yelled.

Harry came back and sat next to Dobby and patted his knee. "It'll be okay. There's bound to be a way out." But he caught Ginny's eye, and knew that she was thinking the same thing. If Voldemort meant this to be a trap, then there might not be a way out unless someone opened the door from the corridor. And there was no possibility of that since no one knew where they were or why they were here or how they had got in.

Ginny moved next to Harry and took his arm. "Nice fix, isn't it?" she murmured. "Why do you think the door disappeared? How could whoever did that —" she nodded at the platform "— get out if there wasn't a door?"

Harry shrugged. "There's lots of magical things Voldemort can do that I don't even know exist. It looks like this is one of them." He got up again, but this time he walked slowly around the perimeter of the room, examining all four walls. Every few feet he stopped and touched the wall with his wand. In ten minutes he was back.

"It's completely blank," he announced. "There's not even a crack at the corners where the walls meet." Ginny put her head on her arms, and Harry sat down next to her and started stroking her hair. She smiled wanly at him.

Ron had been pacing back and forth, but he stopped next to Hermione and squatted. "Any ideas? Maybe something from the encyclopedia?" He sat down. "You've been quiet. Thinking, I hope."

Hermione nodded. "I've been trying to think like Voldemort, and believe me, it's not very pleasant. I don't think any ordinary charm can undo that wall. It was probably triggered just by our coming in, and my guess is that the door won't reappear until the Horcrux is either destroyed or used."

"Used? What do you mean? Only Voldemort can use it. Oh..." Ron got a sick look. "He would have to come back because he was dead, or whatever it is he becomes when someone kills him. That's weird. It gives me a headache."

"Maybe it's just lack of food," Ginny snorted.

"You shut up, Ginny!" he yelled. "This isn't funny. It has nothing to do with food! Sometimes your mouth is too smart, you know?"

"I got it from you!" Ginny yelled back. "You and your brilliant brothers! Smart blokes, all of you. Get us out of here if you're so smart!" Ron scowled, but Hermione pulled his arm and he turned away.

Dobby's wail became a steady shriek; Harry had no idea how he could keep it up without seeming to take a breath. Harry stood up, and strode toward the platform; they all watched him. He stopped half–way and took out his wand and began reciting charms, hexes, jinxes, and spells, even though he had been through all of them before. He got the same results: nothing worked. He tried conjuring food, water, chairs, wands, another copy of _The Encyclopaedia Magica_, the hubcap that Ginny had used as a Portkey, Filch's cannon, and a chamber pot. He tried several unsuccessful _Accio's_, and a dozen spells to open a door.

Dobby suddenly stopped wailing, and everyone looked at him. He lay down on his back and did not move; his nose stuck up in the air like a long, thin chimney. Harry walked over to him and joined Hermione, who was squatting next to the elf. "What is it, Dobby?" Harry said. "We're not giving up."

"Dobby is just wanting to sleep. When you remembers, wake Dobby up." He closed his eyes and immediately began snoring.

"What the hell does that mean?" Ron said; he was standing next to Hermione. "What are we supposed to remember?"

Harry stared down at Dobby. "It has to mean something. He wouldn't just say it for no reason. We must have forgotten a spell."

"I don't think so," said Hermione. "We've tried everything we ever learned in Charms and Defense Against. I've also tried everything I ever learned on my own. And Dobby can't Disapparate. Magic just doesn't work in here. Except Lumos. Why is that?" She frowned.

"But that proves that magic does work in here," Ginny said. "It has to be magic that's keeping us from using magic. And magic must have kept that elf's corpse from rotting."

"Then Voldemort did something that's suppressing magic," Hermione said. "He knows something we don't know."

"Well, like Harry said, doesn't he know a lot that we don't know?" Ron asked. "He knows more than I do, that's for sure."

Ginny bit her tongue, and looked at Harry. He had taken out his wand again and was staring back at the platform. She put her hand on his arm. "What is it?"

"We do know something that Voldemort doesn't." He smiled at them.

"Oh!" said Ginny. "You mean —?"

Harry nodded; he had not stopped grinning. "I wonder why Dobby didn't say anything before." He looked down at the sleeping elf, and at that moment Dobby's eyes opened.

"You has remembered, Harry Potter?" he said in his squeaky voice, and sat up.

"I think so," Harry answered. "But why didn't you —"

Ron interrupted him. "Harry! Will you tell us what you're talking about?"

Hermione answered. "Figure it out, Ron. It's something that wasn't known to anyone when Voldemort created this room."

A smile slowly came across Ron's face, and he nodded. "Sometimes I get it late, but eventually I get it. Harry's Patronus!"

Harry stepped away from the others. "Let's see," he said. His wand came up, but nothing happened. Ginny put her hand on his arm again. He glanced at her; the blazing look that he loved stared back. He turned again and in a heartbeat the golden–white stag flew from his wand. Ginny's grip on Harry's arm tightened. The stag stood a few yards in front of them, its red eyes glowing softly. It looked around the room, and then moved slowly toward the platform; with each step sparks jumped from its hooves. It stopped directly in front of the platform and put its nose in the air. It lifted its head high for several moments. As they all held their breaths, it stepped onto the platform.

The first thing it did was kick the case directly in front of it, and the glass shattered in a shower of sparks. It was the loudest noise they had heard since they entered the room — except for Dobby's wailing — and they all jumped; Dobby let out a squeal. The stag turned and gazed at Dobby, and the elf squealed again and ducked behind Harry's legs. The stag looked at Harry for a moment, and proceeded around the Death Circle, kicking each case, shattering it, sending sparks into the air. As each necklace fell onto the platform, its yellow glow vanished. The stag went half–way around the circle, destroying each case in its path. It suddenly stopped.

It put its nose against the case it was facing and nudged it until it was out of its way. It continued around the Circle, demolishing everything, until once again it was in front of Harry. They were all transfixed, scarcely breathing. Every glass case but one was destroyed; the platform was littered with golden necklaces and shards of glass. The light in the room was considerably dimmer with only one necklace glowing. Harry, then the others, lit their wands.

Without looking at them, the stag walked into the middle of the Circle. It pawed at the body of the house–elf. Dobby took Harry's hand; he was weeping silently. "Poor house–elf," he whispered. "Goodbye!"

The stag stepped back, and leaped forward, butting the body of the elf hard. It burst into flames, and the watchers jumped back. The body burned for less than a minute as the smoke rose into the arches above and dissipated. When the fire died, not even ashes remained.

The stag moved toward the lone standing case. "Here we go," muttered Ron. Ginny held Harry's arm with both hands, and he drew her close. Ron also pulled Hermione nearer to him. Dobby again was clutching Harry's leg.

The stag's eyes brightened into two brilliant red searchlights. It placed a hoof on the case and pushed it over, exposing the necklace. The yellow glow flared, then held steady. The stag nuzzled the necklace, and each time it touched it, the glow pulsated. It picked it up in its teeth and shook it once. The necklace jingled with a sweet, high tone. The stag shook its head violently, back and forth, and a cloud of yellowish smoke emerged and engulfed the stag's head. The stag shook the necklace again and the songlike notes sounded and echoed through the room. The smoke wafted away. The glow faded slowly and vanished. The stag dropped the necklace, and looked at Harry. Its eyes had dimmed to a dark, tranquil shade of rose.

They all let out their breaths at the same time. Ginny was the first to speak. "Harry, it's done! You did it!"

"He's beautiful, isn't he?" Harry couldn't take his eyes from his Patronus; it was still motionless, still watching him.

Ron let out a yell. "The door! Yes!" The others turned, and there in the middle of a brown wall at the front of the room was the door they had come through. "Let's get out of here before it disappears again!" Ron cried.

But Harry was climbing onto the platform and Ginny was following him. Their footsteps crunched on the carpet of broken glass and scattered necklaces. Harry neared the stag and it circled away, kicking aside pieces of glass. It approached the side of the platform near Dobby, who shrank back with a fearful squeak. The stag gazed benignly at the elf; its eyes now looked like glimmering rubies. It's head turned slowly around the room, and it vanished in a blink.

"It's safe," Hermione assured Ron, who had been glancing nervously at the door. "I don't think it would have gone if there was still any danger."

Harry picked up Rowena Ravenclaw's necklace. He looked at Ginny, and his green eyes seemed to have caught fire from the stag. "We have him now!" he said, clutching the necklace. Ginny had never heard such exultation in his voice. "Come on, it must be late." Harry took her hand. "There's a feast in your honor."

"That's right," Ron called. "Let's not miss it. Can we go?"

Harry and Ginny jumped down from the platform, and Harry led them to the door. He opened it and stood aside as the others passed. He took a last look back at the room, stepped outside, and shut the door. It immediately melted into the wall.

"That room will never exist again," Hermione said quietly. "At least I hope not."

Dobby pulled on Harry's arm. "Dobby must go back to the kitchen. It is almost time for the feast." He bowed to Ginny.

"Dobby," Harry said, "when you went to sleep in there, you told me to wake you up when I remembered. Remembered what?"

Dobby blinked. "Oh, just remember to wake Dobby up. Harry Potter was very worried and very busy. Dobby did not want to bother Harry Potter, but he wanted Harry Potter to be sure and remember Dobby."

"So you didn't know anything that I was supposed to remember? Something like the Patronus?"

"Dobby was sleepy, and now Dobby is hungry." He bowed to Harry, smiled coyly at Ginny, and disappeared with a loud pop.

Harry frowned. "That was strange. If he knew, why didn't he say something?"

"House–elves are different," Hermione said. "They're not like people. Maybe he was afraid to say anything because his own magic wasn't working."

"Can we continue this conversation in the dining room?" Ron asked. "Let's not make the guest of honor late." He chucked Ginny on her arm, and after a moment she chucked his.

They went back to Gryffindor Tower to clean up, then hurried to the Great Hall; it was already past the beginning of dinnertime. The feast was as sumptuous as Dobby had promised, even to the point of decadence. There were only about two dozen students back at school, and everyone was astounded at the endless courses of delicious food; even Ron had enough. Dessert was an ice cream sculpture in the shape of a bust of Ginny, with strawberry glaze for her hair. She refused to be embarrassed, and joked about each scoop of her nose, chin, hair, and other parts of her head that she dished out.

Professor McGonagall observed the meal placidly from the staff table. Harry wondered if she knew that they had been absent all afternoon, but she gave no hint of any concern. He had the Ravenclaw necklace in his pocket. He knew he would have to hand it in to someone at Hogwarts at some time, but for now he intended to keep it.

They made their groggy way back to the common room. It was warm, but only dimly lit by the fire and a few candles, and Ron and Hermione dropped into their usual chairs in front of the fireplace.

Harry had other ideas. "Wait a minute," he said to Ginny. He took out his wand and re–arranged a half–dozen chairs and a sofa to form a closed-off corner that couldn't be seen from the rest of the room. When he was done he beckoned to Ginny.

"Why, sir!" she protested with her hands on her hips, "you are trying to lure me into your little den. It would be my ruination."

Harry grinned. "I want to show you a sunrise."

"That window is facing west."

"How about a sunset? Would that work?"

"Oh, Harry," she laughed and swooned into his arms. "I'm ruined." He fell onto the sofa with her, and for a long while Ron and Hermione heard nothing from them.

They sat up later and watched the sun go down, an orange ball in a cloudless, red and purple sky. Ginny cuddled as close to Harry as she could, and he put his arm around her. "You had quite a day," she said.

"We all did. But Voldemort's still alive, and he's still coming after me."

"But now you have magic that's stronger than his. And there's just one Horcrux left and we know exactly what it is."

"But if we wait, he'll just go out and kill someone again and make another Horcrux. We can't wait. We can't just sit here until he decides to come after me."

Ginny sighed. "Harry, can't we stop and take a breath? I feel like I've been running non–stop for more than a week, ever since you left school. So much has changed. My head is spinning."

She felt Harry tense. "I don't know if I can wait," he said.

"I don't understand."

He took her hands. "Ginny, I'm leaving Hogwarts in a few months. We can't get on with our lives until Voldemort is gone. We were losing each other, but you wouldn't let it happen. Now only one thing can keep us from having each other."

"That's...that's... " Ginny couldn't finish. To Harry's consternation she began to cry.

"I'm sorry," he blurted in confusion. "Don't cry, I didn't mean to upset you."

"I'm not upset. It's just hard to believe sometimes that you're back. It happened so fast." She put her head on his chest and her arms around his neck. "But can't we wait a bit before you go off to war again? You don't even know where to start looking for him." When she put her tear–stained cheek against his, Harry had one of those moments when just being with Ginny made him dizzy.

"I have an idea," she said. "Let's forget about the Dark stuff until after the next Quidditch match. It's only three months away. By then we'll all be able to use our new Patronuses, so we'll be even stronger. And Voldemort won't have any dementors left, either. They'll all be dead or working for the Ministry again."

Harry didn't speak while he tried to figure out what was happening to his resolve. "I don't know," he finally said uncertainly.

Ginny pressed on. "Ron told me that Elspeth's dad agreed to coach us. The fog will be gone and we'll be able to use that trick we were talking about with my hair clip. And with our new brooms, we could win the match."

"I completely forgot about the Quidditch tournament." Harry's uncertainty was now beginning to fade; he would much rather look forward to meeting Chudley than meeting the Dark Lord. "What about Fred and George? Did they ever say anything to you about helping us practice?"

"I forgot to ask, in all the fuss about Merope's grave and everything else. I'll owl them tonight."

Harry was smiling a little; he had decided, and it brought a great feeling of relief. "I think you have an excellent idea, but do you really have to send the owl tonight?"

She gave her answer, but not in words.

# # # #

The early morning sunlight came through a window across the room. Its reflection off the window near the sofa woke Ginny up. She was squeezed between the back of the sofa and Harry, who was still asleep, barely balanced on the edge. She sat up and looked around, but no one else was in the common room. She felt a moment of panicky guilt, but then she giggled. They were not at the Burrow, her mum was not about to break down the door and catch them doing something, and she would not have to answer questions or have a scene.

She stroked Harry's forehead, and let her finger linger on his scar. He opened his eyes, and smiled, but abruptly sat up. He picked his glasses off the floor and put them on.

"Did we actually sleep here?" he said.

"Uh–huh."

"Well." He paused. "Are you okay?"

"Of course," she smiled. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well." He paused again. "I don't know."

"So your vocabulary shrinks in the morning. Very interesting."

Harry laughed. "And you're very witty in the morning."

"Not just in the morning." They both smiled.

"This is very domestic," Harry said.

"I think I better go upstairs and change." Ginny got up and started to walk away, but she stopped and bent down and kissed him, then hurried up the stairs to her room. Harry sat for a moment, staring at the door she had gone through. He went to the window and looked out over the grounds for a few minutes, then went up to his own room and lay wide-awake on his bed until Ron woke up for breakfast.


	15. Ginny's Lion

**Chapter Fifteen**

**Ginny's Lion**

Harry and Ginny spent most of the remaining days of the holiday in what Ginny called — but only to Harry — the "den of ruination." Harry was more relaxed than she had ever seen him. He laughed often, and he never once mentioned Voldemort or the war. Ron and Hermione took to sitting with them in the "den" during the day, whenever they were not outside practicing Patronuses, but after dinner they left Harry and Ginny alone.

They talked long into the evenings, mostly about the past. Harry talked more about himself in a day than he had in a month when they were together last year. Ginny wanted to know about Harry's life with the Dursleys, and she gradually overcame his reluctance to say anything about it. She wasn't curious about how Muggles lived, but why Harry stayed there even after he came to Hogwarts and became friends with Ron and close to her family. Harry told her what Dumbledore had said about the protection of his mother's blood.

"So your aunt was your only family," she mused. "And that's all I ever had – a family. We never had many things, except the Muggle nonsense that Dad brought home. My boots are the first new thing I ever owned, except what Mum knitted or sewed."

"And your Firebolt," Harry reminded her with a smile.

"Yes! My Firebolt! That was the sweetest thing anyone ever did for me." There was a long but not inactive pause in the conversation.

"We should meet with the rest of the team when term begins," Harry said; his head was in Ginny's lap and she was trying to curl his hair around her fingers. "We can have our own practices. We don't need Madam Hooch."

"I suppose so. That reminds me... Wait here, I'll be right back."

Harry sat up and Ginny went to her room and returned with her lion clip. She handed it to Harry. "Something's different about it ever since you touched it with your wand," she told him. "I can't make it do anything, but when I move my wand near it there's magic there, I'm sure."

Harry looked it over. "What did you try?"

"I tried an illuminating charm to get it to light up. When you touched it, it went off like a flash from a camera."

Harry carefully retrieved his wand from a small table next to the sofa that also held one or two of Ginny's things that she had wanted to keep nearby: her wand; a hair brush; some hair ribbons; a Pygmy Puff in a small cage she had conjured; the photograph of Harry that he had retrieved from Sirius's room at twelve Grimmauld Place ("the dragon slayer," she called it); her Transfiguration, Charms, and Potions textbooks, which she had not opened; the Marauder's Map which she had asked Harry to bring down to the common room, and which she _had_ opened; two owls from her mother; yesterday's _Daily Prophet_, also from her mum, with a second–page article about Harry circled in red; three quills; a quill–sharpening knife; two pots of ink, one purple, the other red; and a small box of letter parchments.

He put the clasp down on a chair, and touched it with his wand. A bright, golden light flashed briefly.

"What's that?" Ron called from in front of the fireplace. He stood up and peered at Harry.

"Quidditch tactics," Harry called back. "The Gryffindor lion awakens!"

"Ginny's hair thing?"

Harry waved it at Ron and sat down. "I don't know what it is," he said to Ginny. "Let me keep it, and I'll ask McGonagall or Flitwick next time I get a chance."

They took up their conversation about Harry's life with the Dursleys, and much later they fell asleep stretched out next to each other on the sofa, as they had every night since their return to Hogwarts.

They practiced their new Patronuses every day, and sometimes twice if the weather was not too cold. By New Years Eve Hermione, like Harry, could consistently conjure a fiery Patronus that persisted until the otter figured out that there was nothing to attack. It would then vanish, but she could bring it back again in less than a minute.

Ginny and Ron were not so far along. Their phoenix and dog were fully formed, but they lasted only a few seconds. Harry wondered if that was simply because there was no danger around.

"It's still frustrating," Ginny complained after her phoenix had soared off toward Hogsmeade only to blink out after two strokes of its wings. "Maybe I could make it last longer if we got Filch to stand in front of us with one of his whips."

They all chuckled. Harry glanced at the castle, and saw a group of people on the steps watching them. Most were students, but they were standing behind Professors McGonagall and Flitwick. Ron, Ginny, and Hermione also turned to look, and Ron frowned.

"What does she want now?" he muttered. "We aren't doing anything wrong."

"I don't think she's angry," Hermione said. "Not even about the lawn."

The two teachers walked toward them, trailed by the students. McGonagall stopped in front of Harry and looked over the scorched grass.

"Maybe you could learn a greening charm from Professor Sprout, Mr. Potter," she said. "Just a suggestion, of course, but the grass seems a bit spotty right around here, even for December thirty–first."

"Oh, sure, Professor," Harry replied. "We didn't mean to burn up your lawn." Some of the students laughed.

"It's not my lawn, Mr. Potter. It's Hogwarts's lawn. But no matter. It will grow back." She paused. "So those were the Patronuses you discovered?"

"Yes." Harry was unsure how much he wanted to say to the Headmistress. He ought to trust her as a member of the Order, but after what had happened in the Room of Requirement there were now things about the Patronus he did not want anyone except his friends to know. And McGonagall's question implied that she had not been told everything by Lupin or Moody. He was also not going to say anything in front of all these students.

McGonagall seemed to be expecting him to say more. When Harry's silence continued, she pursed her lips. "Mr. Potter, would you mind coming up to my office? I'd like to speak with you and your friends. Even Mr. Weasley, as long as he wipes his feet before he comes in."

Ron scowled at her, then at the students who were sniggering and whispering to each other.

"Of course," said Harry. "Now?"

McGonagall nodded and turned to lead them back to the castle. The students stepped aside to let them pass, but Harry stopped in front of Professor Flitwick. He took Ginny's hair clip from his pocket. "Professor," he said, "can you look at this? Ginny got it in Diagon Alley last summer, and it wasn't supposed to be magical. Sometimes it flares, kind of like a camera flashing, but only when my wand touches it. It's strange."

Flitwick examined it. "I'll be happy to, Mr. Potter," he said in his squeaky voice. "Diagon Alley, you say?"

Professor McGonagall looked back at Harry. "If you don't mind?"

In her office, they sat down in front of the large desk. Harry glanced at Professor Dumbledore's portrait, but the frame was empty except for the chair.

"He is at the Ministry of Magic," McGonagall said. "There are a lot of things going on."

They sat in silence under her questioning gaze. When no one reacted, she continued. "I will come to the point, then. Four days ago something happened inside the castle. I confess I don't know precisely what it was or precisely where it happened, but it was very powerful magic, of a kind that is unknown to me. I have spent the last four days accounting for the whereabouts of every person who was in the castle at the time, except you four."

Harry answered immediately. "We've only been in the Great Hall, outside on the lawn, or in the common room." He kept his face as blank as possible; he didn't dare look at the others.

"Yes," McGonagall replied, "in the common room. Re-arranging the furniture."

"Oh, that!" Harry dismissed it with a wave, but his face felt hot. "I, uh, I was going to put it all back before anyone else returns."

"I'm sure you were."

Harry thought he saw a twitch around her mouth, like the beginning of a smile. He glanced at Ginny; she smiled at him serenely, and then at the Headmistress. McGonagall looked back with a distant expression, and sighed.

She became brisk and official again. "Well, obviously I wondered about your whereabouts because of your new Patronus. It would explain why I couldn't identify the mystery magic. And what you've been doing out on the lawn is similar to what I sensed that afternoon four days ago."

Harry was becoming more uncomfortable about lying to McGonagall; she did not deserve it. "Well," he tried to sound reluctant, "we were inside, but someplace else." He heard the others shift in their chairs, and McGonagall glanced at them. Harry continued. "I think the weather wasn't so good, so we went to the Room of Requirement and practiced our Patronuses there."

McGonagall looked skeptical. "I don't remember bad weather," she said. "The dementors mist has been very light since Christmas."

Harry looked down at his hands; he scratched his nose, and gripped the arms of his chair. "Maybe it was too cold to go outside."

McGonagall leaned back. "Well, clearly that's all the answer I'm going to get from you, Harry." She looked at Ginny, who looked back innocently. "Miss Weasley, before Christmas you came in here and told me the truth about something that was supposed to be a strict confidence. Do you have anything you wish to say now?"

"No, Professor," Ginny said in a conversational tone, "it's like Harry said. We just decided it was too cold, so we found a safe place indoors. We didn't want to damage anything."

"Like the lawn." The Headmistress held her hand up to stop Ginny. "Thank you all for your time."

"I suppose she had a point," Ron admitted on their way back to the common room. "It's interesting, though, that she knew something was going on."

Harry was silent. Ginny took his arm. "You didn't like doing that, did you?"

Harry shook his head. "No, but I didn't want to tell her about the Horcrux. It didn't feel good, lying to her like that." Ginny squeezed his arm, and he looked at her gratefully. They climbed through the portrait hole and he and Ginny walked to the "den."

"I suppose I should put the furniture back," Harry said glumly.

"No you shouldn't," Ginny answered firmly. "Tonight's New Years Eve. We can do it tomorrow. I want one more night in my nest."

"So now it's your nest," Harry grinned. "I'm not ruining you anymore?"

"I'm way beyond ruin."

After dinner they all sat in front of the fire. Ron produced a case of butterbeer, and they sipped and talked. Just before midnight there were two loud pops, and to their delight Dobby and Winky appeared in front of them. They celebrated the New Year together, although Winky was extremely shy and didn't say much. The elves left, and Harry and Ginny returned to their corner.

"I will have to put the furniture back tomorrow," Harry murmured between snogs.

"I know," Ginny sighed. "But it's been so nice. Just the two of us."

The next day students began trickling back to school. Harry had not bothered to look at the _Prophet_ since his interview, and he had told Hermione that he wasn't interested in what was happening outside Hogwarts, so she stopped trying to show him articles about what the Ministry was doing with his new magic. But the returning students were full of curiosity about it, and they pestered both Harry and Ginny. Ginny tried to deflect the badgering away from Harry, but the following day classes began and they were no longer together for most of the day. Harry couldn't hide his ignorance of current events any more, so he gave up, and at dinner he asked Hermione to bring him up to date.

"There's been almost a complete end to dementor attacks," Hermione began. "Two days after Christmas a Wizarding Hit Team spotted another swarm down in Devonshire, but they weren't quite up to speed with your Patronus, so one of them went back to the Ministry and fortunately both Kingsley and Tonks were there. They all returned and decimated the swarm. The _Prophet_ said that the dementors contacted Scrimgeour that very day. Now some of them have also gone back to Azkaban."

"And what about Scrimgeour?" Harry asked. "I imagine he's basking in the glory."

"He's certainly feeling pretty good about things," Hermione said. "They're feeding the _Prophet_ stories about how they're always coming up with new Defenses Against the Dark Arts. But I don't think the editors are buying the line like they did two years ago. That reporter who interviewed you has had a couple of off–the–record interviews from people who say it was you all along."

Harry smiled. "Good old Tonks and Kingsley. Well, I really don't care." He thought for a moment. "Has there been anything about Voldemort?"

Ginny looked unhappy at this, but Harry patted her hand. "Just asking."

"Did you two decide something?" Hermione said.

"I'm taking a furlough from the war until after the next Quidditch match," Harry said. "It was Ginny's idea, and a very excellent one. We'll all be experts with our Patronuses and the dementors won't be a problem at all by then."

"You're right," Hermione agreed. She gave Ginny a quick smile and a nod.

"So, is there anything about Voldemort?" Harry asked again.

"Nothing. Not a whisper. But if the dementors abandon him, he'll have to do something. His main weapon is fear, and if people stop being afraid, he's lost half the battle."

Ron had been half–listening, but perked up when Harry mentioned Quidditch. He spoke now. "I forgot to tell you, mate. Edward Pendragon wants to coach us. He said he can get up here on weekends."

'Ginny mentioned it," Harry said. "And Fred and George said they'd try to give us a hand. They're the best Beaters I ever saw here, so that should help give the Chasers a workout."

"Ouch." Ginny made a face. "I'm sure they'll be very enthusiastic."

Harry laughed. "Should we have a team meeting on Saturday? Without Hooch?" Ron and Ginny both agreed.

When classes started up, Ginny found herself completely swamped. She had done no studying at all during the break, and since Harry's return to the Burrow, other things had driven all academic thoughts from her head. It took several days to get herself back into the mind–set that the heavy load required. During the day, when she was not usually around Harry, she could concentrate on what was going on in class or what she was reading in the library. But evenings, when she ought to be studying, she couldn't keep herself from being distracted. After a week of falling behind in her homework, she finally brought it up with Harry.

"I freely admit that I can't study when I'm around you," she smiled. "Do you remember at the beginning of last term, you told me that you couldn't eat with me because you were too distracted?"

"I can now. In fact, I think you give me an appetite."

"And you give me one. But I've got to figure out a way to get my homework done. You wouldn't mind if I studied evenings in the library, would you?"

"'Course not. How about at ten every night I'll come and get you? If you're not done I'll just chat up Madam Pince until you're ready."

"She'll be delighted," Ginny laughed.

They went on to talk about the Quidditch team meeting they were having the next day. Every team member had responded enthusiastically, especially when they learned about the new Firebolts. Harry had not told Madam Hooch anything, and she had not announced when her own practices would start.

They gathered in an empty classroom on the first floor. Ginny and Ron passed around their new brooms, and promised everyone a go after the meeting. Harry told them about the offers from Edward Pendragon and the Weasley twins. Erskine Labine, the Chaser from Ravenclaw, grimaced when he heard that Fred and George would be practicing against them. "We hated them when they were on Gryffindor," he said. "I think I still have bruises from those matches."

Erskine's brother was out of the country and couldn't come to help them, and Carlotta Romani's sister couldn't fly for the time being because she was pregnant. "But she wants to help. She told me that she heard stories about Madam Hooch. Hooch was a Keeper here, and she always tried to get one of the Chasers to play back as a defender. That explains why she coaches the way she does."

"That's ridiculous," Ron snorted. "She couldn't have been a very good Keeper."

They decided to practice next weekend if the weather held, but they couldn't decide when or whether to tell Madam Hooch.

"We should do it now," Ron declared. "Let's get it over with. She'll find out anyway as soon as we start flying."

"But if she forbids it, then what?" Erskine asked. "That would be the end of it."

"She can't forbid it, can she?" Elspeth spoke for the first time. "Why can't we do what we want? It sounds like what I heard about Dolores Umbridge."

"No one's that bad," Harry said. "Let's think about it for a couple of days. We have the whole week to decide. Nobody says anything to anyone outside the team, okay?" They all agreed, and trooped down to the Quidditch pitch where everyone got to fly on the new Firebolts.

By the middle of the week Ginny had almost caught up with her homework, and when Harry came to the library to get her, they started taking late–evening strolls through the castle under his Invisibility cloak. They encountered Mrs. Norris regularly, and Ginny tried to befriend the cat but never succeeded. Harry showed her all the byways and secret passages he had discovered over the years. Sometimes they found themselves alone in an out–of–the–way corridor, and they took off the cloak and sat and talked. The stillness of the castle, the flickering torchlight, and the isolation of the hallways put them in a quiet, intimate mood. They often got to bed late, but neither wanted to give these moments up; they were a continuation of the hours they had spent alone in their "den." When they returned to the common room — which was usually empty — their good–nights lingered, and when they saw each other again in the morning they laughed at everything and marveled at the wonder of a new day with each other.

On Thursday morning Harry decided that they should tell Madam Hooch about the team's plans. "She'll be mad no matter what, like you said," he told Ron and Ginny at breakfast. "I'll talk to her when we're done eating. Can you two come along?"

"What about the others?" Ginny asked. "Strength in numbers, after all."

Harry shook his head. "That'll seem more like we're ganging up. If it's just the three of us she's less likely to go off."

They waited until the Flying instructor got up from the staff table and started to walk to the entrance. They intercepted her just inside the doors.

"Excuse me, Madam Hooch, can we talk to you for a minute?" Harry stepped in front of her, and she stopped.

"If it's about practice," she said, "I'll be making an announcement in a week or two. I haven't decided exactly when we should start —"

"We're going to hold our own practices," Harry blurted. "And we're getting some other people to help."

"What?" She frowned. "You can't —" She stopped in mid–sentence. "Why? And who do you think will come up here in the middle of winter to play Quidditch?"

Harry felt Ginny move closer to him and unobtrusively put her hand on the small of his back. "We have our own ideas about how we want to play the match," he said. "And we asked some people we know and they said they would do it."

"Who?"

Harry looked at Ron. "Fred and George Weasley. And Elspeth's father. He coached a professional club for two years."

Hooch's eyes narrowed. "And what are your ideas about playing the match?"

"We don't want to be so defensive. We could have scored some goals, but you had the Chasers playing like Beaters. They can't —"

"Mr. Potter, I don't have time for an argument about Quidditch tactics, but if you'll remember, Mr. Weasley here had more than his hands full and gave up seven goals rather quickly."

"That's because the Quaffle was at our end for the whole match!" Ron almost shouted. "Anyone can score if —"

"And you're the expert?" Hooch snapped. She glanced around at the empty Hall. "I have a class to teach, and I'm already late. If you'll excuse me..." She turned and strode away.

They watched her until she was out of sight down the corridor. "Did you notice something?" said Ron. "She didn't say no."

"Right," Harry grinned. "She started to, but backed off. Practice is Saturday right after lunch. Tell the others when you see them."

Neither Edward Pendragon nor the Weasley twins could be there on such short notice, but since Ron was completely familiar with the Chudley Cannons' style of play, he was able to give Carlotta and Thurmond Thumpel some ideas for stopping an attack by their Chasers. Harry worked with Ginny, Elspeth, and Erskine. Ginny was flying considerably faster on her Firebolt, so they practiced long passes, with the idea that she would be able to break past the Chudley defense. The weather was cold, though, and they couldn't stay out long. When Harry, Ginny, and Ron got back to the common room, they found a message from Professor Flitwick. He wanted to see Harry and Ginny in his office.

"It must be about my hair clip," Ginny said on their way around to the West Tower. "Did you bring your wand?"

"Right here." Harry patted his robe. "I hope the thing isn't dangerous. He'll have to take it away if it is."

They knocked on the door to the Charms Master's office and entered. Flitwick was behind his cluttered desk, sitting on a high stool. The walls were covered with dozens of small paintings, all with pictures of fairies of various kinds. Behind him a very large portrait frame dominated the room, but it was empty except for a plain high–backed chair in front of a curtain with the Ravenclaw coat of arms emblazoned on it. Professor Flitwick smiled as they came in.

"Please sit." He beckoned to two chairs and they glided over the floor to his desk; Harry and Ginny sat down. "I hope the Quidditch practice went well?" He smiled again. "It must have been cold out there."

They both nodded and grinned. Professor Flitwick's geniality was contagious, and they both felt very much at ease.

"Well." He picked up Ginny's hair clasp from his desktop. He peered at Ginny out of his clear, blue, crinkled eyes. "Where exactly in Diagon Alley did you get this?"

"There was an old witch with a pushcart. She was very friendly, and she said nice things about my brothers. They're the ones who actually bought it for me. Fred and George, I mean. And George checked it out and he said it wasn't magical."

"I'm very familiar with your brothers' abilities," Flitwick chuckled. "I have no doubt that George could tell if this item was magical. If he said it wasn't, then it wasn't. But there's no doubt that it is now, so the question is how did it get this way?" He turned the clasp over in his tiny hands, then held it up and looked at Harry. "Tell me how you caused it to flash, as you described."

Harry told him about the two times he had touched the clasp with his wand. Flitwick peered at it again. "Let me see your wand, please, Harry, if you don't mind." Harry handed him the wand, and they watched as the Professor examined it. He pointed it at the wall, and a small flame spurted from it, followed by a puff of white smoke. He raised his bushy, white eyebrows. "The last time you used this was to conjure your new Patronus?" he asked.

Harry nodded, an impressed look on his face.

"Your wand is fine." Flitwick handed it back, and looked keenly at Ginny, then at Harry. "A wand is very personal, as I'm sure you both know. It responds to many things besides verbal incantations and thoughts. It's very sensitive to its user's state of mind, his or her emotions. I know, Harry, that since Christmas you've experienced a large number — even for you — of unusual events that must have been very emotional." He looked again at Ginny and smiled, and she felt herself blush. "Let me ask you something, Harry. It's a rather personal question, so I'll understand if you don't want to answer. Have you recently felt that something new, or different, or changed, was happening to you, that somehow you were experiencing the world outside of yourself differently? And that _inside_ yourself there was also something new? I don't mean an obvious event like your new Patronus. I mean a feeling, or a belief."

Harry was astonished to hear Professor Flitwick describe so clearly exactly what he had been trying to explain to Ginny for weeks. He had first tried when they were on their Firebolts above the clearing at the Burrow; since then, he had talked about it many times during their long evenings together in the "den," and on their evening strolls through the hallways.

"Yes," Harry said, "and I know exactly when it began. It was two days before Christmas. I — I was almost killed, and at the instant I realized how close I had come to dying, I knew that..." His voice trailed off, and he looked at Ginny; her eyes were glistening. "From then on, it began to feel just like you said. I told Ginny that there was something strong inside me, but I didn't know what." He looked questioningly at the professor. "Do you know what it is?"

"Yes, I do." Flitwick smiled yet again. "It's not uncommon. And it's exactly the opposite of what you came to see me about last fall. Do you remember?"

Harry felt a reluctance to talk about it, but Ginny squeezed his hand. "I was kind of not wanting Ginny to be... I mean, I thought we shouldn't... I mean, I really wanted to be with her, but I was afraid." He was almost mumbling.

Professor Flitwick smiled again, and Harry realized that his smiles had a very soothing effect. "I know, Harry," he said, "and I didn't say anything to you at the time because I knew that you wouldn't understand unless you figured it out for yourself. And knowing you, I was absolutely sure that you _would_ figure it out. But that's a digression. What I started to say was that you're now going through the exact opposite of what you were then. Your magical powers have become so strong that I suspect you don't even recognize some of them anymore." He paused, and looked seriously at Harry. "This reversal of your powers is common, but in your case it's gone a step further. In fact, several steps further. Every witch and wizard can make an ordinary wizarding object do magical things. We can even do it with some Muggle objects. But Harry, you didn't just make the lion do magic, you _put_ magic into it. It's quite an unusual power."

"I don't understand," Ginny said, and Harry also looked puzzled.

"Ah," Flitwick beamed. "You give me the opportunity for a lecture. Have you ever been someplace where you can't do magic, but your wand will still light up?" Harry and Ginny glanced quickly at each other, and Harry nodded. "Well, then," the Professor continued, "you'll know exactly what I mean. It's the difference between making something light up with your wand, and your wand lighting up itself, with Lumos or some other charm. The wand works because magic is in it. The object works because the wand makes it work. Your lion lit up because Harry's wand made it light up. But, he also put the magic in it that will let it light up on its own."

He picked up the clasp and handed it to Ginny. "Harry must have wanted something magical to happen to this," he said to her, "and that's what put the magic in it. I have not seen it done very often." He turned to Harry. "I think you'll find that, with practice, you'll be able to do things with this little lion even without your wand. And with other things, too, once you put the magic in them. I'm impressed, very impressed, but not surprised." This time his smile encompassed the whole room, and several fairies in their paintings tittered.

Harry and Ginny stood up. "Thanks very much, Professor," Harry said.

They turned to go, but at that moment a figure stepped into the portrait behind Flitwick's desk. A striking, regal–looking witch stood gazing at Harry. She wore a blue gown trimmed in gold with puffy sleeves and a white ruff collar; a purple cloak was fastened around her shoulders, and on her head was a close–fitting blue hat, almost like a skullcap that also covered her ears. Around her neck was a gold necklace from which hung a small medallion with an ornate "R" engraved on it, ringed with small blue gems. Her eyes were piercing; Harry could not break away from them.

She said, with an accent similar to Minerva McGonagall's, "Harry Potter, I believe." It was more an acknowledgment than a question. Her hand went briefly to her necklace, and she sat down in the high–backed chair and nodded to Flitwick. "Good day, Professor. Is your company leaving?"

Flitwick smiled once more, and Harry was, at that moment, grateful to get out of the office. He and Ginny didn't speak until they were well down the hallway.

"She knows I have it," Harry said.

"She certainly does," Ginny agreed. "I don't think she can do much about it, though. She can't prove anything. But I really liked Professor Flitwick. I'm sorry I haven't got to know him better. He's very charming."

"Charm—" Harry glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, but she was keeping a straight face. "That was terrible," he said.

They stepped through the portrait hole to find Ron and Hermione in their accustomed places. They sat down with them, and described their visit to Professor Flitwick. When Harry recounted Flitwick's explanation of why the clasp had flashed, Hermione's eyes lit up.

"Harry!" she exclaimed, "I read about that last week in the _Magica_, volume twelve. It's called Inductive Magic, and it's exactly what Flitwick described. The witch or wizard with the power to do it can put magical qualities into a non–magical object, and make it do things without using a wand. It's extremely rare. In fact, at the time the article was written there were only four wizards living in Britain who were known to have the power."

"And who were they?" Harry asked, but he thought he knew part of the answer.

Hermione hesitated. "It's pretty impressive company, but it's also a mixed bag. Two were obviously Dumbledore and Voldemort. The third is, believe it or not, Severus Snape. The fourth was Nicholas Flamel, who died about a year ago."

They stared in wonder at Harry. "Please don't," he muttered. "I hate that."

"But there are three now," Ginny said. "Lord Voldemort, Severus Snape, and you, Harry." She leaned toward him from the chair next to his. "Now you're their equal."

Harry did not answer. He sat back and closed his eyes. It had felt so good not to think about Voldemort for so long, even if he knew he was just pushing it into the back of his mind. Now all the anxiety and tension came flooding back; he could feel his pulse throbbing in his head and his stomach churning. He saw the happy fantasy world he had built around Ginny and the Quidditch team start to fall apart into little pieces.

Someone slipped into the chair with him. He opened his eyes and saw Ginny's freckled nose an inch away. She took his face in her hands. "I'm sorry," she said softly, "I shouldn't have said that. But now you know how strong you are." He closed his eyes again and held her tightly.


	16. Hogsmeade

**Chapter Sixteen**

**Hogsmeade**

Ginny lifted her head from Harry's shoulder. "I got your robe all wet," she sniffled.

Harry brushed tears from her face. "It's okay. I'm okay."

He had had a brief impulse to get up and run to his room or outside to the White Tomb. Ginny had known, and she had not let it happen. She engulfed him and held him in place with the weight of her body, with her breathing, her heartbeat, her smell, her hair, her arms around his neck. And when he knew that he would not run, that Ginny would not let him, the strength that he had described to her and to Professor Flitwick surged; it rose from inside, up through his chest, into his arms and his brain. It felt like an avalanche running uphill, irresistible and overwhelming.

"Where's your lion?" He held his hand out and Ginny reached into her robes and gave it to him.

"Do it!" she whispered fiercely, and stood up.

Ron and Hermione also stood, and a few students sitting nearby looked; a sense that something was about to happen filled the air. Harry rose and put the clasp on the arm of his chair; he narrowed his eyes and stared at it, but nothing happened. A beam of sunlight came through a window as the sun broke from behind a cloud, and the light fell on the wall next to the fireplace. Harry looked at the dust motes dancing in the beam, then at the clasp. It flashed.

"Hello!" Ron cried, and Hermione clapped her hands. Harry looked at Ginny and grinned.

Dean Thomas was peering over Ron's shoulder. "Hey, Harry, what did you do to Ginny's lion?"

"Uh, nothing." Harry quickly picked it up and handed it to Ginny. "I was just trying something that Flitwick showed me."

"Yeah, but that thing wasn't supposed to be magical. George Weasley —"

"Dean!" Ginny pulled him into their circle. "Harry was trying something new. It's a trick he learned from Professor Flitwick, but please don't tell anyone. Flitwick didn't think Harry could do it, and we want to surprise him." Dean grinned briefly and walked away.

"That was pretty lame," Ron said quietly when they sat down.

"He won't say anything," Ginny answered. She glanced at Harry; he was staring at the sunbeam.

Hermione spoke. "That was excellent, Harry. What happened? Did you make a connection between the sun and the lion?"

"I'm not really sure. It was more like I put the sunlight into the lion. But it wasn't hard. I just had to find the right feeling, and it worked." He looked at Ginny. "Let's take a walk outside."

They wore their warmest cloaks, but it was still cold, and they kept their arms tightly about each other. They walked into the shade of a grove of tall pines near the lake. Harry took the lion clasp from Ginny's pocket and put it in her hair.

"Not like that," she giggled, and adjusted it so that it was how she would wear it in a Quidditch match. She stepped back, but before she could take a second step it flashed again. "Hey, what are you doing?" she laughed, and it quickly flashed two more times. Harry backed away, and as he did the clasp flashed every few seconds. Ginny watched him with her mouth hanging open. She gingerly put her hand to it. It flashed again, and she jumped, but didn't move her hand.

"I can't feel anything," she called to Harry who was now about fifty paces away. "It's perfect!" She held her hands out, and he came back to her blazing eyes. They did not notice the cold for quite a while.

Harry continued to practice with the hair clip for the next few days, until Ginny finally asked him to stop. He could do it without even being in the same room, as long as he knew where it was, and he was awakening her and the Pygmy Puffs in the middle of the night by making it flash on the dresser in her room.

"You should get serious about it," Hermione told him. It was Saturday morning in late January and they were all walking down to the lake. It had turned warmer, and since they had been neglecting their Patronuses for a couple of weeks they decided to practice before lunch. The Weasley twins and Elspeth's father would be at their Quidditch practice in the afternoon.

"What do you mean?" Harry said. "We're going to use it in the match. What could be more serious than Quidditch?" He grinned at Ginny.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Harry, you know what I mean. Some day you're going to need it. It could make a big difference." She looked at Ginny, who was frowning. "I'm sorry," Hermione apologized, "I know you're supposed to be on holiday from Voldemort, but it's such a powerful weapon. Maybe you could talk to Professor Flitwick, and he could help you."

"Hermione, I think I know what I'm doing. Maybe the war will be won on the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch."

"What's that mean?" Ron asked.

Hermione rolled her eyes again. "He means that what he learns from doing magic in Quidditch will help defeat Voldemort."

"You know, that makes sense," Ron said. "Good thinking, mate. The more Quidditch we play, the sooner we win the war. I like that."

"That's stupid, Ron." Hermione was becoming irritated. "If you wanted —"

"All right!" Harry stopped and put his hands up. "Can we do what we came out here to do? I'll talk to Flitwick, okay?"

They began practicing, and even though they had not done it for two weeks, Ginny and Ron were now able to keep their Patronuses up almost as long as Harry and Hermione. The highlight of the morning was Hermione's otter. As soon as it emerged and spotted the lake it dove into the water and a geyser of steam erupted. The geyser followed the otter as it swam in circles for about a minute; it died out when the otter vanished.

In the afternoon they had their second Quidditch practice without Madam Hooch, who had still not said anything about her own practices. Edward Pendragon was a quick flyer. He had been a Chaser when he played at Hogwarts, and he thoroughly approved of Harry's strategy of breaking Ginny free for long passes. He also showed all of the Chasers some nifty feinting and dodging techniques.

"Using long passes has a double advantage," he remarked to Harry as they hovered on their brooms high above the pitch, watching the Chasers zipping and turning. "It gives you more scoring chances, and it forces their Beaters to play back instead of pressing up like they did in your first match. I think Ron won't have as many shots against him this time. The down side is that you only get one shot at goal, and there's no chance to pass the Quaffle off."

"Uh, oh." Harry pointed. "There's Hooch." Madam Hooch had entered the stadium and was looking up at the Chasers; she had her broomstick in her hand. It was hard to tell from a distance, but she didn't seem angry.

"Stay here," Edward said. "I'll talk to her." He gave Harry a mysterious grin and dove toward the ground. Harry flew over to Ron; the Beaters, with George and Fred, had gathered around the goals and were watching Hooch. Edward landed next to her and they began an animated conversation. Hooch pointed to the group around Harry. Pendragon leaned on his broomstick and they talked for a few minutes, then they shook hands. They flew up to Harry where the entire team now waited, and Pendragon nodded to Hooch.

She was even more brisk than usual. "Mr. Pendragon and I have agreed to split the coaching duties. I'll be working with the Keeper and Beaters, he'll be with the Chasers and Seeker." The team looked at each other; they were all surprised. But before they could move away, Hooch spoke again. "Mr. Potter, I want to say that I appreciate your telling me what your plans were. I always believe that the team comes first, and obviously so do you." She ducked away and zoomed over to one of the goals.

"Okay," said Ron. "Let's give it a go."

The rest of practice went well, and afterward, on their way back to the castle, Ron gave the Flying instructor some not–so–reluctant compliments "She knows her stuff as far as Keeping is concerned. I guess she's just oriented toward defense. What do you think, Ginny? Can Elspeth's dad help the Chasers?"

"He already has. I think we'll definitely score some goals this time. But I also think it's all going to come down to the Seekers again."

"What's with Hooch and Elspeth's dad?" Harry said. "When he flew down to talk to her he acted kind of funny."

"Elspeth told me that he mentioned Hooch after you guys asked him to coach. They were at Hogwarts at the same time."

"So?" Ron asked.

"So nothing. Maybe they dated before he met Elspeth's mum."

"No way," was Ron's only comment.

Fred and George decided to stay at Hogwarts for dinner, and at the Gryffindor table it was like old times before Umbridge. After dinner the twins were about to leave for Hogsmeade — they were going to finish off the evening at The Three Broomsticks — when Ginny noticed Harry and Ron huddled with them just inside the entrance. She eyed them suspiciously, and waited for Harry to join her.

"What was that all about?" she asked.

"Oh, nothing. Want to take a walk through the castle tonight?"

"Yes, I'd like that, but you're up to something with my brothers."

"Why do you say that? I was just asking how business was. I like to keep up with them."

"Humph." Ginny was hardly convinced, and she decided to keep her eyes open; it was too easy to smuggle contraband past the sieve–like ineptitude of Filch.

Another two weeks passed and Ginny forgot the incident. It was pushed out of her mind by class work, Quidditch, and especially practicing her Patronus. Harry thought that their progress was fine, but she, Ron, and Hermione all wanted to be as far along as possible, as quickly as possible. It was a bit of a switch for Harry to be the one less anxious about Voldemort, but he really was taking Ginny's exhortation to heart and putting Voldemort out of his mind. There was something about this that bothered Ginny, but she couldn't put her finger on it. Her thoughts would stray to the upcoming Quidditch match, or to events farther away like the end of term, and she would feel small knots in her stomach. She wondered why Harry could be so carefree and she so worried. She decided to talk to Hermione about it, and they sat down together one afternoon in Hermione's room.

"I don't see any problem with Harry's attitude," Hermione said. "It's a good time for him to relax. It's our last term, we have almost no homework anymore, he's playing Quidditch almost every day, and he has you." She grinned. "He also has a new magical power that nobody else has, or even knows about. The _Prophet_ is writing positive stories about him, which has to make him feel good even if he doesn't really care. At least it's better than all that Rita Skeeter garbage. What are you worried about?"

"I don't know," Ginny sounded frustrated. "Maybe I'm thinking too much. But he's been spending more time than usual up in his dorm lately. Whenever he used to go off by himself it was because he was running away from something or someone, usually me."

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "I had the impression you two were spending all your free time together. Alone."

"We are. A couple of times, though, he wanted to get back to the common room early, and then he went straight off to bed. We used to hang with you guys, or just sit by ourselves and talk and... whatever."

Hermione smiled. "Well, Ron's also been going to bed earlier. He's been working so hard in your Quidditch practices, he's been really tired. Maybe Harry is too."

"Yeah, he has been working hard." Ginny brightened. "I guess that explains it. I'm too paranoid."

Hermione changed the subject. "Are you getting him anything for Valentine's Day? Tomorrow's the Feast."

Ginny laughed. "He said he hated valentines ever since that embarrassment in his second year. He even thought once it might have been from me." She closed her eyes and wiggled in her chair. "I'll just be extra nice to him."

Hermione giggled. "I'm getting Ron something, but you have to promise never ever to let him know that I told you."

Ginny was very interested. "Of course. I'll take it to the grave."

"He told me he had a magical teddy bear when he was little that he slept with. If he kissed it, it would kiss him back. Then Fred and George hexed it so that it farted instead of kissing, and your parents took it away." She laughed. "Traumatized for life! So I got him another one, but of course I'll have to give it to him when we're alone."

"Blimey!" Ginny marveled. "I have no recollection of that. He must have been really little. But that's sweet, Hermione." She thought for a moment. "I wonder if Harry... No, he couldn't have had anything like that from his aunt and uncle." She frowned. "Pigs, all of them."

The next morning, Valentine's Day, early risers in the Gryffindor common room were startled by loud shrieks from the girls' dormitory, followed by the sounds of running feet and shouts. The girls in the room scrambled for the stairs, and the boys gathered at the foot and peered anxiously up. There were more shrieks, then loud laughter.

"What's going on?" Harry said from the back of the crowd of boys; he and Ron were the last to arrive.

"Dunno." Dean looked back from the doorway. He craned his neck, trying to see up the stairs. "I can't tell. Hey!" he yelled. "Is everything okay?"

There were more shrieks of laughter. "Come on up!" someone called. "Everyone's decent."

Dean looked at Neville standing next to him, then at Ron who was with Harry. "You're the prefect," Dean said. "I think if you say it's okay we can go up."

Ron pushed his way to the door. "It's okay with me. Hermione!" he called loudly. "Give us the okay and we'll come up!"

There was more laughter and Hermione came flying down the stairs. She jumped into Ron's arms, knocking him backward into Neville, and wrapped her arms and legs around him and kissed him. "It's wonderful!" she exclaimed. Some of the boys whistled.

"Happy Valentines Day, and good morning to you, too," Ron said.

The boys trooped upstairs, Ron and Harry bringing up the rear. At one landing a group of girls stood before an open door. The boys stopped, and the girls stepped aside. It was Ginny's room, and inside was a riot of red: the walls, windows, ceiling, floor, and furniture were covered and adorned with bouquets of roses, flowery hearts, streamers, and paper cut–outs. Some of the hearts periodically sent out eruptions of small, padded, silk hearts pierced with little arrows, and some of those disappeared in crackling pops of tiny crimson fireworks.

Ginny stood in the center of the carnival, wearing her dressing gown and holding a single red rose. She looked over the heads of the boys peering into her room and beckoned to Harry, who looked back at her from behind them. He grinned as he came through. He paused before he entered, and Dean gave him a little push into the room.

"You've been a bad little boy, haven't you?" Ginny said, and handed him the rose.

"Me?" Harry pressed his fingers to his chest. "Why do you think it was me?"

"Oh, no reason at all." Ginny picked a pierced heart out of his hair. She held it up and laughed. "This is why you were talking to my evil twin brothers, isn't it?"

"Do you like it?"

"Oh, Harry, it's wonderful!"

Everyone went up to admire Hermione's room, which was identically bedecked, then the boys were shooed back to the common room where Harry and Ron were suitably ragged about their futures as interior decorators. As girls came down on their way to breakfast they giggled and whispered to each other as they passed Harry and Ron. Finally Hermione and Ginny appeared. They both wore crowns of braided roses and necklaces of pierced hearts. When they entered the Great Hall, word had preceded them, and a loud buzz went up. Everyone, including the staff, applauded as they sat down at the Gryffindor table.

Ginny and Hermione went to all their classes that day wearing their Valentine finery, and in the evening the four sat in front of the fireplace and laughed at how Harry and Ron had been spending so much time up in their room planning the whole enterprise and hiding it from the girls. The glow lasted for days, and Ron and Harry, when they talked to each other about it, were more than a little surprised at how happy it had made their girlfriends.

"Girls are different," Ron observed; they were in their room getting ready for bed the night before a Saturday Quidditch practice.

"I'll drink to that," said Harry.

"No, I mean they react to things differently. I figured she would like the roses and hearts and all, but I never imagined how _much_ she would like it." He grinned. "She hasn't stopped thanking me."

"There's a lesson in this," Harry intoned. "The way to a woman's heart is through a heart. Or a Firebolt." He laughed. "Of all the things no one ever taught me, that's the most important. By the way, what's that in your bed?" He pointed to a small lump under Ron's comforter.

"It's nothing. Just something Hermione gave me." He quickly climbed into bed and blew out his candle. "See you in the morning," he said, and pulled the curtain shut.

Edward Pendragon and the twins were again at Quidditch practice the next day. The team had a brisk workout and Fred and George became very involved, so much so that at one point Ginny's temper flared and she grabbed a Bludger and smacked George in the middle of his back with it.

"What did you do that for?" he yelled. "I'm only doing my job." Ginny glared and flew off. When Erskine caught up to her he gave her an appreciative grin.

But everything was working; both the Chasers and the Beaters were getting better at anticipating each other's moves, and Ron was making as many saves as before but having to maneuver less. In the dressing room afterward Harry waited until the non–team members had left, and spoke to Ginny and Ron.

"We need to start coming up with a plan for the lion," he said. "It's nice and sunny out. Why don't we go back and work on it?"

When they got outside they found Hermione still sitting in the announcer's box where she had been when they left. She was preoccupied with the _Daily Prophet_, and hadn't noticed that practice had ended. She looked up as Harry, circling above, called out to Ginny to fly in different directions and tilt her head at different angles.

"This is cheating, you know," she said to Ron who was standing next to her watching Harry and Ginny.

"Why is it cheating?" he demanded. "Chudley did it last time. Everyone does it, and the referees don't call it. Do you want us to win or lose?"

"I want you to win by being the better team. If you're going to use magic, why don't you just hex them? Harry's magic is stronger than anything they've got. He could do it."

"That would be too obvious," Ron said uncomfortably. "This kind of stuff goes on all the time. You'll see, the Cannons won't even be surprised."

"How do you know it goes on all the time?"

"I know."

Hermione snorted; she turned the page of the _Prophet_ and went back to reading. Ron looked up as the lion flashed; he cupped his hands and yelled to the flyers, "Too bright! It's too obvious."

They practiced for another fifteen minutes and trudged back to the castle. Hermione was very quiet; she and Ron were not talking, and Harry and Ginny exchanged glances. Hermione went up to her room, and the three sat together at the fireplace.

"What's with Hermione?" Harry asked Ron.

Ron made a disgusted noise. "She says we're cheating."

"Well, we kinda are cheating," Harry answered, "but so what? Everyone does it. It's part of the game."

"Yeah, but you know her."

"She'll be okay," Ginny said. "Maybe something else is bothering her."

Ron shrugged and picked up the _Prophet_ that Hermione had dropped on a chair; he glanced at the headline. "Oh my God," he exclaimed. He looked at Harry, then at Ginny. "This is... Oh my God." He handed the paper to Harry. In the middle of the front page was a photograph of Pansy Parkinson. The headline read, "Youngest Death Eater Killed in Raid!"

Harry handed it to Ginny and her face went ashen. The three of them stared at each other. "I'll get Hermione," Ginny whispered. In a few minutes they were back; Hermione's eyes were red and her face was streaked with tears. Ron got up and held her as she cried softly on his shoulder.

"I feel sick," Ginny said. "She was only seventeen."

Harry read the story aloud.

"'In a raid conducted last night on a house in a remote area of Yorkshire, a crack Wizard Hit Team from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, reinforced by a group of select Aurors, trapped at least twenty followers of You–Know–Who and fought a fierce battle with them. The raid was apparently a complete surprise to the Death Eaters, who still waged a bitter fight. During the fighting three Death Eaters attempted a breakout, and one was hit by a Killing Curse aimed at them from the house, according to the Ministry of Magic. This claim has not been independently verified by this reporter.' I think it's the same bloke who interviewed me," Harry said. "His name is, uh, Stewart — ohmygod, he's Stan Shunpike's brother or something." He looked at the others and shook his head. "This whole thing is bizarre."

"Go on, finish it," Ginny said; she was sitting in a chair and staring at the floor with her head in her hands.

Harry continued. "'Two Killing Curses missed, according to the Ministry, but one struck one of the fleeing Death Eaters directly in the back, killing her instantly. The Ministry identified her as Pansy Parkinson, a seventh–year dropout from the House of Slytherin at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Miss Parkinson had been wanted by the Ministry for sabotage and attempted murder, charges connected with the well–known attack on the Hogwarts Express last spring. The Ministry of Magic is refusing to comment on rumors that the location of the so–called safe house was revealed by Dementors who recently defected from You–Know–Who.'"

Harry put the paper down. Hermione and Ron sat, and Hermione picked up the paper; her expression was blank as she turned to an inside page. "I read all the stories while you were practicing. The other two who tried to get out were Crabbe and Goyle. My own opinion is that they were trying to escape from the Death Eaters, not from the Hit Team. No one else was killed. They captured twelve Death Eaters by putting a binding spell on the house that kept most of them from Disapparating. Someone in the Ministry said that Voldemort lost a quarter of his people in the raid, but that may just be propaganda." She looked up. "I can't believe she's dead. I hated her, but I never wished her dead."

No one responded. She went on, and her voice began to falter. "There's another s–story here about her parents. They were neighbors of the Malfoys, but there's no evidence that they're Death Eaters. Pansy and Draco had no siblings. They g–grew up together." She began to weep again, and Ron put his hand on her shoulder.

The Great Hall was very quiet at dinnertime. Professor McGonagall and Professor Slughorn spent several minutes before the meal at the Slytherin table where all of the students sat with stunned expressions. Some cast angry glances in the direction of Harry and Ginny, but a fourth–year girl sitting next to Elspeth said something to them, and they turned their glares on her.

Ginny held onto Harry as they walked back to Gryffindor Tower. "I think I'd like to stay in the common room tonight," she said. Harry nodded, and they spent the evening in front of the fireplace with Hermione and Ron, mostly in silence, staring into the flames.

In the following days and weeks there were more raids and more captures. Articles began appearing in the _Prophet_ about the "beginning of the end" of the war, and Stewart Shunpike had a series of stories about the history of the war; he pin–pointed what he called "The Battle of the Burrow" on Christmas Day as the turning point. Harry pointedly ignored all of it, and told Hermione once again that he did not want to know anything about the outside world, so she should stop reading the _Prophet_ aloud to everyone at breakfast.

Harry also started spending more time with Professor Flitwick learning about Inductive Magic, and he talked to Ron about the Professor one warm afternoon in late March as they practiced their Patronuses near the lake.

"He's really something," Harry said. "Here's this tiny wizard that a lot of students don't take seriously. His voice is ridiculous. But he's as smart as anyone I ever met, and I'm learning more from him than I ever learned from Snape or McGonagall. He knows everything about everything, and he makes you feel good when you're learning it."

"So what are you learning?" Ron asked.

Harry didn't answer immediately; he watched Ginny's Patronus stalk a thrush that was hopping along the ground pecking at insects. Hermione trailed the Patronus and stamped out the flames it left in its trail. The thrush finally noticed the phoenix and flew off. When the bird flew away, the phoenix vanished.

Harry laughed. "I think your phoenix is confused," he called to Ginny, "unless Voldemort's now an animagus and that was him." Ginny smiled and turned away.

Harry stared at her for a moment, and then he answered Ron. "I put a voice charm in a little doll, and then I made it talk. But now he's teaching me how to get the voice charm to do other things. He even thinks I might eventually be able to conjure my Patronus from it."

"Wow! That would be useful, at least until the doll went up in flames. How does he teach it, though? Can he do it himself?"

"Not really, but he knows so much and he's so good at explaining things, that it almost seems like he does."

Since they had all become completely proficient with their fiery Patronuses, they didn't practice long. They sat under a beech tree near the lake, and basked in the early spring sunshine that fell in mottled patterns through the bare branches, and watched white clouds sail across the sky. Ron and Hermione decided to return to the castle, but Harry held Ginny back. They leaned against the tree trunk, and Ginny rested her head on his shoulder. "You've been quiet lately," Harry said. "Is something bothering you?"

Ginny had in fact begun to feel restive again about a lot of things — especially since the news about Pansy — but she had kept it from Harry so far. The end of the school year would mean many things aside from a possible confrontation with Voldemort. What would they all do this summer? And would she be alone at Hogwarts next year? She hoped that Harry would come back to the Burrow for the summer, and that all of them would stay there until everything about Voldemort was resolved, one way or the other. The dilemma of what to do about her seventh year was so dependent on so many other confusing things, that it was simpler just to put it out of her mind. But it wouldn't stay out, and she decided she had to talk.

"What's going to happen this summer?" she said. "And what about next year? I know they're both a long way off, and I know we can't decide now, but I can't help thinking about it."

"What do you mean, next year? You'll be here, won't you?"

"Where will you be?"

"Oh." He was silent for a long time. "I see what you mean. I hadn't thought about it at all." He closed his eyes for a moment, and looked at her with a broad grin. "I have an idea. Let's make big plans, and the hell with what might happen. If you come back to Hogwarts next year, then I'll live in Hogsmeade."

"What? How can you do that? I mean..." Ginny's eyes grew wide; she looked toward the gates and the lane leading to the village. "Would you really? Where would you live? That would be unbelievable!"

Harry got a mischievous look. "Maybe I could re–open Zonko's for Fred and George."

"Somehow, I can't see you as a store–keeper."

"What can you see me as? A shop in Hogsmeade wouldn't be a bad place for _two_ people to live."

"Harry, don't start talking like that." She looked down and tears filled her eyes. "There's too much that could happen. I couldn't... I couldn't stand it if we had decided something like that and then one of us... Look what happened to Pansy."

"I'm sorry," Harry said. "I thought it would make you happy, something to look forward to. It would make _me_ happy."

"You have been pretty happy lately. Everything's going your way — your magic, the team, leaving school soon..."

"I like the feeling."

Ginny abruptly stood, and Harry scrambled up to join her. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing's really wrong. I don't know why this conversation upsets me. It would be wonderful if you lived in Hogsmeade next year, really. Maybe the problem is that if I try to think past the next hour, I'm afraid that it won't ever happen. I'm sorry. I'm making us both miserable."

"That used to be my job," Harry said, and he laughed. "Let's go back. It's getting late."

Harry's offer to live in Hogsmeade, where they would certainly have lots of time alone and lots of privacy, buoyed Ginny's feelings. But the nagging voice troubling her mind would not go away. She knew that it had to be the uncertainty of how and when Harry would have to face Voldemort and what the outcome would be. But she also resolved not to let it ruin either the prospect of a win over Chudley, or the intriguing idea of a place in Hogsmeade for her and Harry.

The final weeks before the match sped by in a blur. They began holding daily practices; her brothers decided to close their shop for a week before the game and come up to Hogwarts; and Edward Pendragon also arrived around the same time as the Weasley twins. Harry had stopped going to classes, and spent hours each day with Professor Flitwick or alone in his office with the lion clip. He mentioned one strange thing to the others: he never saw Rowena Ravenclaw in her portrait again. He asked the Professor about it once, but Flitwick dismissed it as coincidence and a long vacation in Switzerland.

The day before the match, the Chudley Cannons again joined the school for dinner, and again they sat with the Hogwarts team at the Slytherin table. This time both Harry and Ginny were asked — politely — about events that had been reported in the _Daily Prophet_. Ron tried to be polite, too, but he clearly had feelings left over from the first match, and when they all left the table, "Broomstick" Bailey, the Cannons Keeper, smiled sardonically at him and wished him luck.

In the dressing room before the match, Ginny felt a quieter and stronger confidence than she had before the first one. They had learned some skills that would at least make things more difficult for Chudley. As she clipped the golden lion into her hair, her eyes met Harry's, and they smiled at each other across the dressing room. She went over to him. He was sitting on a bench and she bent down and whispered in his ear, "You're going to get it, I have a feeling. And I love you." She kissed him quickly.

Madam Hooch did not give a pep talk this time. Instead, she and Edward told the Chasers to use the breakaway pass as soon into the match as possible. They wished them luck, and Harry led the team onto the pitch.

The stadium was completely packed under a bright sky with a few puffy, white clouds. Once again hundreds of people from outside the school had come for the match, and a huge roar went up as the Hogwarts team walked out. The players mounted their brooms — the Chudley players all noticed the two new Firebolts — the referee blew her whistle, and the match began.

The instant the Quaffle left the box, Ginny shot toward it; Carlotta, perfectly positioned, smashed into the Chudley Chaser who had reacted a split second too late, and Ginny had it. She circled back to the Hogwarts goal, drawing the whole Chudley team after her; it was clear that the Cannons were anticipating another easy win.

Ginny passed to Elspeth who retreated farther, then Ginny shot past the Cannon attackers and was behind their defense. She took the return pass before any of them realized what had happened, and she sped toward the Chudley goal. A last–second feint put the Keeper completely out of position and she scored easily.

No one at Hogwarts had ever heard such a deafening roar in the Quidditch stadium, as Ginny made a triumphant loop low over the stands. Hogwarts students were beside themselves; later, some of them even claimed to have seen Argus Filch smile. The Chudley Cannons looked at each other in surprise, and they quickly went over to the attack. But now they found it harder to penetrate the Hogwarts defense, and Ron was able to save all the shots they took in the first fifteen minutes. They began to press, and Ginny spotted another opening. Her second goal provoked a nasty comment from "Broomstick" Bailey about her ancestry.

"Stick it!" she screamed at him as she flew past the goal, "'cause there's more coming!"

The match turned ugly. Bludgers began to find their marks, and Hogwarts gave as good as it got. Chudley finally broke through and scored when one of their Chasers bumped Ron and kept him from making the save. Ron flew directly at the referee, screaming for a foul, but she just pointed at the goal and told him to get back. Carlotta and Thurmond had to pull him away.

The match went back and forth for almost another hour. Chudley finally began to pull ahead. The score was seventy to fifty when a change in the crowd noise made Ginny glance up. The Golden Snitch was directly above her, and both Harry and Forrester Salinger were diving toward it from high above. They were close together, knocking against each other's brooms.

Ginny knew exactly what to do. She began moving away from the Snitch, keeping her head down. She sensed more than saw the flash of light, and looked up. The trick had worked. Salinger swerved only a few yards off course, but it was enough. He arrived at the Snitch a split second after Harry, but it was already in Harry's grasp.

A giant roar erupted from the crowd, and Ginny thought her ears would explode. Salinger glared at Harry for a moment, but when the Chudley Seeker looked at Ginny, he winked and flew to her. He tapped her broomstick with his. "See you at the next match," he shouted over the noise.

He started to fly away, but Ginny noticed that most of the other players were moving toward them, following behind the referee, a witch with a no–nonsense look. Just as she began to say something to Ginny, Salinger flew between them.

"Nothing happened!" he shouted. "No foul!"

The referee scowled and hesitated, and Ginny took the opportunity to dive to the ground, where dozens of students were celebrating. Soon the whole team was in the center of a dancing, cheering mob. When Ginny looked up again, the Cannons and the referee were gone.

The dressing room was jubilant. They all shouted, screamed, and hugged each other. Ginny went to Harry, and they didn't come up for air until Ron laughingly pulled them apart. Fred and George came in, and told them to come outside where the entire student body was waiting. Cheers rang out when the team emerged.

Fred pulled Ron, Harry and Ginny aside. "We're going into Hogsmeade for a little celebration. The village will be hopping. Mum and Dad are here, and so are Bill and Fleur."

Ginny looked for Elspeth; she wanted to ask her to join them. Elspeth was standing off to one side with the Slytherin students, and Ginny went over and nudged her. "We're going into Hogsmeade. Get your father and join us."

Elspeth hesitated. "I think I'll be going in with, uh..." She indicated the Slytherins with a nod.

Ginny tried to hide her surprise, and smiled briefly at them, but they all returned either blank or hostile looks. She turned and hurried into the dressing room with Harry and Ron, and when they came out again, the Weasley clan was waiting along with Hermione.

"Mad–Eye and Remus will be joining us at The Three Broomsticks," Fred said on their way into the village; the lane was crowded with students, parents, and others, and they all called out congratulations to the Quidditch players. "Tonks and Kingsley are here, too, but they're on duty."

The inn was crowded and noisy, and a cheer went up when Harry, Ron, and Ginny entered. Hands clapped their backs, and they were all offered drinks from each table as they passed. Madam Rosmerta came from behind the bar and cleared a table for them toward the back. "A little privacy for the heroes of the day," she told them. "And a round of drinks."

"Rosmerta, I love you," George proclaimed, trying to kiss her, but she laughed and pulled away. The drinks came, and everyone toasted the Hogwarts Quidditch team.

Ginny treasured the moment. She had scored three goals; her family was celebrating with her; and Harry was sitting next to her with his arm around her. She felt no anxieties about anything; there were no worrisome voices in her head. She turned to look at Harry; he was talking across the table to Remus about fiery Patronuses, and Ginny felt a wave of pride and certainty. He _was_ Voldemort's equal in magic, and on top of that he had the love that so many felt for him, a strength beyond anything the Dark Lord could comprehend.

An hour and several drinks later, a thought occurred to Ginny. "Mum," she said loudly above the noise, "come take a walk with me down to Dervish and Banges. I want to ask them about that potion they sold us for my blisters last year." She stood up.

Molly glanced at Arthur. He frowned, but Ron spoke up. "I'll go with them. I'd like to give 'em a piece of my mind, too."

Harry looked up. "I'll come, too," he announced.

"This is ridiculous," Ginny said. "There's more Aurors in the village than there are drunks like us. We'll be fine. Come on, Mum. Harry, you're having fun. Stay here." She and Molly started to leave.

Ron went after them. "I'm not drunk yet," he muttered to Hermione, who smiled hazily and waved vaguely. They disappeared out the door and up the High Street.

Harry resumed his conversation with Lupin about Patronus lessons that the Ministry had announced for the general Wizarding public. After a few minutes Kingsley and Tonks entered. They had gone off duty and were anxious to catch up to the rest of them. Kingsley went to the bar, and was returning with a tray of drinks when a loud bang sounded from outside.

The inn went silent. They heard distant shouts, then screams and more bangs. There was pandemonium and a rush to the door.

The Weasley party was stuck in the back of the room, behind the jam at the front. "Back door!" Kingsley cried, and they all followed him to the rear of the room and out into the field behind the inn. Down the road and off to the side, they could see flames and hear more screams. A golden–white phoenix rose briefly into the air above the rooftops and descended out of sight.

Harry led the sprint back to the High Street, shoving his way through the throngs that were fleeing away from the flames. But when they were only a few yards from the end of the street, where Dervish and Banges stood off to one side, the flames suddenly stopped, although black smoke continued to billow into the air. And there was silence.

They ran into the meadow behind the store, and a horrible scene opened before them. Smoking bodies were strewn about, at least a dozen. Molly Weasley was on her knees, wailing; and in the middle of it all were Ginny's phoenix and Ron's dog with flames flickering over their forms, looking around as though they were lost.

Arthur rushed to Molly. "What happened? Are you hurt?" he cried. "Where are Ron and Ginny?" He looked around frantically. Molly grabbed his robes, and shook her head, sobbing.

"They took them! They came out of there and took them!" She pointed to a building a few yards away.

"That's the back of The Hog's Head," Fred said. "Who were they?"

Molly shook her head again. "Death Eaters. So many of them..." She sobbed uncontrollably in Arthur's arms.

"They're all dead," Kingsley announced; he and Tonks had gone around the meadow examining the bodies. "Burned to a crisp. There are fifteen of them. Ron and Ginny are missing."

Then they saw Harry. He was standing near the Patronuses, reaching his right hand toward them. But they would not approach; together they backed away and suddenly vanished. Harry turned, and as he walked toward the people standing around Molly, they all drew back from the fury and rage and pain on his face and in his eyes. As he walked past them, Hermione held out her hand, but he ignored her and strode out onto the High Street and down toward Hogwarts. Hermione, her face white as a sheet, looked at the others, and followed.

More Aurors entered the meadow, including several who Apparated. Arthur helped Molly stand; she started to collapse to her knees again and clung to him, trembling. Shacklebolt gestured to Harry's back. "Go," he said to Arthur. "All of you, get back to the castle. Tonks and I have work to do here. We'll come as soon as we can." He looked at Mad–Eye and Remus, and nodded toward Harry. Moody limped quickly away, followed by Lupin. The rest, who were gathered around Molly, had to help her walk, and they went more slowly.


	17. United Hogwarts

**Chapter Seventeen**

**United Hogwarts**

Hermione caught up to Harry as he passed The Three Broomsticks. A knot of people stood outside the door, looking up the street at the billows of black smoke. Rosmerta called out as they came by, "Harry, what happened? Was anyone hurt?" He ignored her, but Hermione nodded, and Rosmerta gasped and looked back up the street.

They crossed the train tracks and started up the lane to the castle. "Harry, wait!" Hermione said, and took his arm. "What are we going to do?"

Harry kept walking. "I don't know yet, but my scar's starting to hurt. I have a feeling he'll try to tell me something."

"Who? Do you mean Voldemort?"

Harry was about to speak when he cried out and stumbled. Hermione tried to catch him, but he fell to his knees, clutching his forehead. Hermione knelt next to him. "Is it your scar?" she said fearfully?

He cried out in pain again. "Aaah! Yes! But it — Damn you, get out!" He pulled himself up on Hermione's shoulder, almost dragging her to the ground. He stood with his head in his hands, swaying, his eyes screwed shut. But a moment later he opened them and stared at Hermione. "He showed me where they are."

"Harry!" a voice called from behind. "Wait!" Remus Lupin was running toward them, and Alastor Moody was a few yards back, looking almost comical as he skipped along on his artificial leg. Harry gritted his teeth, and started to turn away, but Hermione grabbed him.

"No, Harry! Wait for them! Please!"

He looked at her angrily. "We can't wait, Hermione. He'll kill them if we don't —" He fell silent as Remus came up, blowing hard.

"Harry, don't do anything hasty," he huffed. "If he wants you to go after them, it's a trap."

"I know it's a trap. I can't —" He stopped again as Moody arrived, tripping and almost toppling into Lupin.

"Damn it, Potter," he gasped, out of breath, "what the hell do you think you're doing? You can't rescue them by yourself. Do you remember what happened last time you tried to play hero?"

Harry's face went dark; an angry retort was on his lips, but Hermione tugged his arm and took his hand; hers was shaking and he had never seen her so distraught.

"Please, Harry," she said in a quavering voice. "Please."

Harry looked at her for a moment; he took a breath and nodded once. "Okay. I'll wait. But not long. What's your plan?" he asked Mad–Eye.

"I don't have a plan yet," Moody growled. "Except not to go off half–cocked into a death trap."

Harry's eyes flashed, and he started to turn away again, but this time Lupin caught his shoulder. "We'll all go up to the castle, all right? Minerva must know by now that something happened. We'll talk there, and —"

"Talk?" Harry interrupted, about to erupt. "You want to talk while Ginny and Ron are there with Voldemort?"

"Where?" Moody cut in. "How do you know where they are?"

Harry shot a look at Hermione. "It's a guess. But who else could have them? If he wants me to go after them, they must be with him."

Lupin stepped between Harry and Mad–Eye. "Let's not fight. That's exactly what he wants us to do. Harry, please, come up to the castle and talk, just for a few minutes. Dumbledore will be there, and he's sure to know something."

Harry muttered an assent under his breath, and started up the lane toward the gates. Hermione gave Remus a grateful look and hurried after Harry. She took his arm again when she caught up. When they came in sight of the gates they saw a large crowd of students and parents milling and pushing before them. The gates themselves were open only wide enough to let one person through at a time. Standing inside were three Aurors and Argus Filch, who squinted at each person as they squeezed through.

Harry looked back over his shoulder; Remus and Mad–Eye were right behind him. Remus smiled quickly; Moody's normal eye stared at Harry while his magical one twirled in every direction, over the crowd, back to the lane and the village, and at the gates.

Harry grabbed Hermione and pushed into the crowd. When they were surrounded by students and parents, Harry looked back again; Lupin and Moody had stayed back, although now Moody was peering at them with the magical eye.

Harry leaned close to Hermione. "We've got to get out of here," he whispered. "My scar was burning for a second, and that was Voldemort, but it was just to get my attention. He's afraid to get inside me. Then a picture came into my head of where Ginny and Ron are. Snape put it there."

"Snape?" Hermione's eyes bugged out. "Snape? He's with Voldemort?"

"I guess he's using Snape to do his Legilimency, at least with me. And, Hermione, he said _you_ have to come with me."

Hermione became even paler. "Me? Why? And where? For God's sake, Harry, where are they?"

Harry surveyed the people around them. Lupin and Moody were still several yards back. No one was paying Harry and Hermione any attention, they were all trying to push closer to the gates and the Aurors who were guarding them. He bent closer and whispered directly into Hermione's ear, "The room with the veil in the Department of Mysteries, where Sirius died."

Hermione stared into Harry's eyes, biting her lip. "But why does he want me? It doesn't make any sense."

They were almost at the gate, and Harry saw that there was a fifth person there: Professor Flitwick, and he was the one checking people coming through, not Filch. Harry continued speaking to Hermione in a low voice. "Once we get inside, we're trapped. I'm sure they sealed the grounds. We'll have to figure out how to get back out. Moody's probably watching to keep us from Disapparating now."

"Not us, Harry. You. I'm not going anywhere."

Harry pushed her through the gate, a little harder than he had to, and she slapped his hand away. Professor Flitwick peered up as Harry passed; his face was dark. "Harry, be careful," he said, and his normally squeaky voice had changed; it was still high–pitched, but somehow stern.

"I'll second that, and don't push me again!" Hermione snarled as they hurried up the drive to the castle.

"I'm sorry, I really am. I shouldn't have done that. But I don't intend to wait around for a committee to decide how to save Ginny. Here they come." Lupin and Moody had spoken briefly with the Aurors at the gate, and were now also on their way up the drive.

"I was afraid they'd both come inside," said Harry. "Now we'll have to find a way to keep Moody from seeing us with that stupid eye. Let's get up to the common room, we'll have some privacy."

Hermione said nothing about being included in Harry's escape plans. When they climbed through the portrait hole they found most of the Gryffindors standing there, waiting. Conversations stopped when they saw Harry. Fearful faces met his eyes, and some of them were streaked with tears. Dean Thomas stepped forward and spoke. "Do you know what happened? Where are Ginny and Ron?"

"I need your help, Dean," Harry said. "Give me ten minutes, then come up to the dorm with everyone who was in the DA, and anyone else who wants to help."

"Okay." He went back to Neville and spoke to him and the others standing nearby.

Harry pulled Hermione toward the stairs to the boys' dorm. "Wait, Harry!" She pulled back. "What are we doing?"

Harry stopped. "Please, just hear me out." He started up the stairs, but looked back as Hermione hesitated. "Hermione," he said softly, "don't turn back, not now." Her head jerked up and she looked at him. She shook her head once. Harry took her hand and led her up into his room and closed the door behind them. Hermione stared at Ron's four–poster; her fingers were twisting together. Harry turned her away from the bed.

"We only have one chance," he said, "and that's for both of us to go. We're not powerless, Hermione. He may know about the Patronus, but he doesn't know I can do Inductive Magic. If Ginny still has her lion clip, I can surprise him and —"

"But there will be at least two of them," she interrupted. "Snape will be there, and he can read your mind, even if Voldemort can't. Harry, you never learned Occlumency."

Harry frowned. "I know, and I don't know what we can do about Snape, but that doesn't change the fact that we only have one chance. We _have_ to go there!"

Hermione turned back to Ron's bed and put her hand on the pillow. She lifted it, and picked up the brown teddy bear lying underneath. Her shoulders started shaking. Harry came and put his arm around her.

"Okay," she said in a choked voice. "We'll both go." She put the bear back on the pillow.

There was a knock. "Harry, it's me," Dean called, and Harry opened the door. "You should come down to the common room," Dean said. "Everyone wants to help."

# # # #

Mad–Eye Moody paced the floor in the Headmistress's office from the window to the door and back. His magical eye was fixed on a spot on the wall, and remained focused on it even when he turned and limped back the other way. At the window he looked with his normal eye over the grounds to the mountains beyond; when he was not next to the window he stared straight ahead.

Remus Lupin sat in front of Professor McGonagall's desk, drumming his fingers nervously on the desktop. He and the Headmistress watched Moody stomp back and forth. Remus occasionally glanced at the portrait of Professor Dumbledore; the Headmaster was dozing in his chair.

"Alastor, please sit," Minerva said. "You're making me nervous, and my nerves are quite shot enough as it is without your help."

"Fine," Moody growled; he stopped pacing and stood next to Remus's chair, but his magical eye didn't leave the spot on the wall.

"Is he still there?" Remus asked.

Moody nodded. "But we have to do something, fast. The longer we sit around talking, the more likely he is to try something foolish." He looked at the door. "Where the hell are they?"

"Give him some credit," McGonagall said. "He's faced Voldemort four times and always come away the winner. How often have you done it?"

Moody grunted. "Never. But Potter's in a right state this time. His girlfriend and his best mate were snatched. Wherever they are, it's a trap."

The door opened, and they all turned. Professor Flitwick entered, followed by Kingsley Shacklebolt, Nymphadora Tonks, the Weasley twins, and Bill Weasley. Tonks had a strange expression, and glanced sideways at Lupin.

"Where are Arthur and Molly?" Remus asked Tonks. "Is Molly all right?"

"We left her in the hospital wing, and Arthur and Fleur stayed with her. She's wrecked."

Moody cleared his throat. "We'll all be wrecked if the worst happens. Does Scrimgeour have a plan? Does he even know about this?"

"I'm glad you brought that up, Alastor," Kingsley said in his deep voice. "I received an owl five minutes ago from the Wizengamot. Rufus is out. You're looking at the new Minister of Magic." He grinned at their expressions. "The first son of Africa to hold the job. We'll see how long I last."

"Kingsley, that's the best news I've heard in a month," Remus said, and clapped the Minister on his back. "But even with what happened today, it seems kind of sudden."

Kingsley shook his head and glanced at the figure sleeping in the portrait behind McGonagall's desk. "There's been a lot of discontent ever since Albus Dumbledore's funeral. The fact that Hogwarts was attacked upset a lot of people. This place is where our future comes from. If it disappears, then Voldemort wins."

"And what happened today, so close to the school, was the final straw?"

"Right. But there's more news." He smiled at Tonks. "I asked your lady to take over the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, as my first official appointment, but she doesn't want a desk job, so she's now Head Auror. Robards has the Department, as soon as he gets the owl."

Remus took Tonks's hand. "All of this will please Harry, I'm sure."

"Excuse me, Remus," Fred said, "but nothing will please Harry until my brother and sister are found. I'm rather out of sorts about it myself," he added.

"So let's do something," George finished.

"Kingsley?" Lupin said, looking at Shacklebolt.

"Minerva, can you get Harry down here?" Kingsley asked.

"Right away." She stood and came around her desk. She opened the door, but froze as loud explosions and whoops echoed up the spiral stairs from the hallway.

"That sounds familiar," said George, and he peered past the Headmistress out the door. The explosions became louder, and they heard more from another part of the castle. Then the whole castle erupted in one long, rumbling blast, and they all sprang for the door, and in a moment were out and down the staircase.

Only Professor Flitwick did not move; he was sitting on a stool in a corner, gazing up at Dumbledore's portrait. The Headmaster was now awake, surveying Flitwick. "Is he gone yet?" Flitwick asked.

Dumbledore nodded. "He will be in a moment."

"Do you know where he's going?"

"Haven't a clue," Dumbledore replied. "But I sincerely hope you taught him well, Filius."

"So do I," Flitwick squeaked solemnly. "So do I."

# # # #

When Harry reached the bottom of the stairs and looked out into the common room, he stopped in amazement. Not only was every Gryffindor student there, but there were people from other Houses with them. In his entire time at Hogwarts he had never seen a non–Gryffindor in the common room. Ernie Macmillan stood next to his fellow–Hufflepuffs Carlotta Romani and Thurmond Thumpel. Erskine Labine was with Luna Lovegood and two Ravenclaws who Harry recognized but didn't know. And off to one side stood Elspeth Pendragon, and next to her the fourth–year girl who had spoken up at the Slytherin table the day Pansy died.

Harry shook his head as though clearing a fog from his mind. "What are all these people doing here?" he asked Dean, who was at his side.

"Let's just say you have friends, Harry." Dean put his hand on his shoulder. "And so do Ron and Ginny." His voice seemed to catch, and Harry glanced at him. "I'm cool," Dean said. "I thought your teammates might want to help, so we went looking for them, and they each brought some friends. We could have got more, but you said ten minutes."

Harry walked to Elspeth; she smiled at him. "Thanks," he said. "I really appreciate this. And you are...?" He held his hand out to the other girl.

She looked directly back at him and briefly shook his hand. She was short and plump, almost heavy, and she wore thick glasses; her dark hair was curly. "I'm Zania." She pronounced her name with the accent on the second syllable. "Zania Black." Harry gave a start.

"Black? Are you..."

"Sirius and Regulus were my second cousins. The Death Eaters killed them, and that's why I'm here."

"Oh." Harry tried to picture the Black family tree from the tapestry at Grimmauld Place, but it was fuzzy in his memory. "Sirius was my godfather. You know that, don't you?"

Zania nodded. "What can I do?"

Harry beckoned for Elspeth and Zania to follow him, and he moved to the center of the room where everyone circled around; Hermione and Dean stood next to him. The faces he saw were somber, some were frightened, some were grim, but they all met his eyes. He remembered walking to the clearing at the Burrow with Ginny the day after Christmas and he remembered the tide of strength he had felt behind him. The tide flowed again, the strength welled up. He was not afraid now, not for Ginny or Ron, and not for himself.

"I'm not sure why you're doing this," he began, "but it's really..." He looked down, and Hermione touched his hand. He looked up again. "Thank you. Okay." He cleared his throat. "Ginny and Ron were snatched by Death Eaters in Hogsmeade today, which I think you all know." Heads nodded. "Voldemort has them." There were gasps, and some flinched at the name. "I know where they are, but I've only told Hermione, and I'm not going to tell you because Voldemort will kill Ginny and Ron if anyone besides me and Hermione goes to where they are. And if any teachers or someone from the Ministry of Magic finds out, they'll be sure to follow us. I'm sorry I can't tell you, but that's why."

"No problem, Harry," someone called. "It makes sense." Again heads nodded.

"Good. All right. Hermione and I need to get out of Hogwarts immediately. I figure that they've sealed the castle grounds, and nothing can get in or out."

"That's right, Harry," Erskine Labine said, and everyone turned to look at him. "I tried to Summon my broom from the stadium while I was still in Hogsmeade, but I don't think the charm even reached it."

"Okay," Harry continued, "so that means we have to get out some other way. I just happen to know one, which I'll tell Dean about, and he can fill you all in after we're gone. But we'll need a diversion, because Mad–Eye Moody is in the castle, and I'm sure he's watching me." Some of the younger students seemed puzzled. "He's an ex–Auror," Harry explained, "and he's got a magical eye that sees through walls. But we have to work fast. Here's what I'd like you to do."

Harry thought for a moment as they all waited. "I need a few people," he said, "five or six, to break into Filch's office. There's got to be a ton of old fireworks and other stuff in there that he confiscated from Fred and George Weasley."

"And some other people," someone called, and a chuckle went around the room.

Harry smiled briefly, "And other people, right. But if Filch is there, you'll have to Stun him. So who wants to volunteer for that?" Every hand in the room shot up. "Okay," Harry couldn't help laughing, "we'll spread the glory." He picked three Gryffindors, plus Ernie Macmillan, Zania Black, and Erskine Labine. They quickly left and Harry turned back to the others.

"Now, everyone break up into groups of four or five, and when they get back with the fireworks, I want each group to go to a different part of the castle and start setting them off. Make as much noise as you can. The only place I don't want anyone to go near is the Astronomy tower, okay? Split up now and work out where you'll go."

He stopped Dean from moving away and drew him and Hermione closer. "This is what my plan is," he said in a low voice. "We're going to fly from the Astronomy tower to the Whomping Willow." Hermione nodded as she comprehended Harry's plan. Harry continued. "Dean, I need you to do two things. First, get us two brooms. I don't want to chance not being able to Summon mine from the stadium. Then I want you to find a long stick of some kind, about ten or fifteen feet long, and take it down to the Willow and leave it there as close as you can without getting yourself killed."

Dean looked puzzled. "Why the Whomping Willow? How will you get out of the grounds from there?"

"There's a tunnel underneath it that leads to the Shrieking Shack. The only person in the castle who knows about it besides us is Remus Lupin. If Fred and George are here then they know, too. If McGonagall doesn't know about it, I'm hoping it didn't get sealed. And there's a knot on the tree that makes it stop attacking if you press it."

Dean nodded, and quickly found Ritchie Coote and Jimmy Peakes; he spoke to them and they went up the stairs and returned a moment later with their brooms. They brought them to Harry.

"Thanks," he said. "Dean will tell you where we'll leave them. You can get them back about ten minutes after the party starts." They grinned, and went back to their groups.

Dean was about to leave, but Harry took his hand. "Dean, thanks. We'll be back, I promise."

"I know you will. Good luck!" They shook hands, and he hurried away and disappeared out the portrait hole.

Hermione pulled on Harry's sleeve. "Why don't we just go out the front entrance? We'll have to climb all those stairs to get to the top of the tower. And what's you plan for getting to the... the place we're going?"

"The entrance is where they'll expect us to go. But they won't be expecting us to use brooms because we can't fly off the grounds. When we get to the Shrieking Shack, we'll Disapparate to the entrance we used two years ago."

"Harry, I'm not sure I can remember it clearly enough. What if I splinch?"

Harry thought for a minute. "We'll do a Side–Along, then. I walked right past the phone box when I was in London before Christmas. I know exactly where we're going."

Hermione looked worried, but at that moment the firework foragers tumbled through the portrait hole, laughing hysterically, and dozens of filibusters, rockets, bombs, sparklers, and some unidentifiable types spilled onto the floor. Gleeful shouts rang out, and everyone hurried over and started grabbing fireworks. Soon the teams were ready, and Harry gave the final instructions.

"Ernie, you get as close to McGonagall's office as you can, then give the signal. Everyone else wait for Ernie Macmillan to set off the first firework, then give it all you've got. Hermione and I need about five minutes to get away. Any questions?"

There were none, and Ernie and his team led the way out the portrait hole. Harry and Hermione stood next to it, and many students wished them luck. Neville, Luna, and the two first–year Gryffindors were passing through when Luna stopped; Neville looked back from outside the hole. "Come on, Luna," he urged, "we have to get all the way down to the Great Hall."

She looked at him for a moment; the people behind her started to push. "Harry," she said in her dreamiest voice, "it's been wonderful knowing you. You too, Hermione. I'll make sure Dad writes a nice story about you."

"Gee, that's swell, Luna." Harry tried not to show either amusement, anger or impatience, all of which he was feeling. "You're holding up the line."

She looked behind her. "Yes, I see that. Actually, I hope you do rescue them. Ron hasn't been nearly as mean this year." Neville took her hand and yanked her through the portrait hole. Luna looked back at Harry with a smile and waved.

When the last student had left, Harry told Hermione to wait, and ran up to his room. He tore through his trunk, pulled out his Invisibility cloak, and ran back downstairs. They stood by the portrait hole, Hermione feeling more and more nervous, and Harry feeling more and more ready, his confidence buoyed by the knowledge that dozens of people, some of whom he barely knew, were out in the castle helping him bring Ginny and Ron back. And maybe destroy Voldemort.

"This is it," he said to Hermione. "I'm going to meet Voldemort again. Don't be frightened." He took her trembling hand. "Trust me." Hermione nodded wordlessly, and tried to smile, but she looked as though she was going to be sick.

Loud bangs and shouts echoed down the corridor, and Harry opened the portrait hole. "Wait thirty seconds, then we run."

The explosions increased; they came from all directions, as did the shouts. Soon the whole castle echoed with thunderous bangs, and Hermione covered her ears. Harry tucked the Invisibility cloak into his pocket, took the two broomsticks, and stepped out of the portrait hole. When Hermione was out it swung shut, and the Fat Lady started screaming.

"What's going on? The castle's blowing up!" She noticed Harry and Hermione. "What are you doing, Harry Potter? You're responsible for this, I know you are!"

"Now!" shouted Harry, and he and Hermione sprinted for the stairs. They saw no one until they turned into a hallway on the first floor; it was full of smoke, and in the distance they could make out the figures of five students firing off rockets that turned into green and red dragons. The dragons spun off and went roaring down the hallway. One came right at them, and Harry pulled Hermione into the stairwell at the base of the Astronomy tower. They dashed up, leaving the noise and smoke behind, and came out on the roof in front of the spot where Severus Snape had killed Professor Dumbledore. Harry handed a broom to Hermione and they stepped to the parapet.

"Ready?" Harry mounted his broom.

"Okay!"

They kicked off and soared up, then straight down toward the Whomping Willow. "Harry!" Hermione called; she was pointing back at the castle. Smoke was pouring from open windows and the entrance, and people were streaming out onto the lawn. They circled the Willow and landed just outside the reach of its branches.

A small breeze peacefully rustled the tree, which was showing the first fresh, green buds of spring. Harry looked around for the pole. "There!" he called to Hermione, who had run to the other side of the tree.

"The knot's over here, too!" she shouted. At that moment Harry heard a cry from the castle. He looked back, and saw Kingsley Shacklebolt racing toward them.

"Harry! Harry!" Kingsley called. His wand was out and pointing straight at Harry. A spell shot out, but it was far enough away to give Harry time to draw his own wand and parry it. He ran to Hermione as she reached with the pole toward the knot. The tree bent toward them and raised a long branch into the air. Just as it was about to strike, Hermione touched the knot, and the tree froze. Harry grabbed her, and they ducked under the now–motionless foliage and dove into the entrance to the tunnel. They heard the tree begin to move again, and then a loud thud and the voice of Kingsley Shacklebolt swearing.

Harry lit his wand, and they stumbled onward, breathing hard. He stopped after they had gone only a short distance. "I think we're outside the grounds," he said. "We can Disapparate now."

Hermione grabbed his arm. "Harry, no, you can't be sure, And we don't know if it works the same underground."

Harry frowned. "Hermione, we can't wait. It could be too late already!"

"No, if he wanted you — us — to come, he wouldn't k–kill them before we got there. He's using them as bait."

Harry swore. "Okay, I don't want to argue." He led her on, and they finally came up inside the Shrieking Shack. They looked carefully around, but it was deserted. They stood in a hallway with dust an inch deep on the floor and cobwebs waving gently in cool drafts.

"Now," Harry said, and Hermione gripped his elbow. Harry put his hand on hers, and they both felt the unpleasant inside–out sensation for a few seconds. They popped out in the trash–strewn street a few yards from the broken telephone box that was the public entrance to the Ministry of Magic. There was a crash of metal behind them, and they both whirled around, Harry with his wand out. A gray tabby cat, as startled as they were, jumped down from one of the overflowing dumpsters that lined the walls of the buildings and dashed down the street. Harry stared at the cat as it disappeared into the open door of the pub a few yards away.

Hermione waited, and when Harry didn't move, she put her hand on his shoulder. "What do we do now?" She was whispering, even though the street was empty and they were far from where it opened into the cross–road.

Harry gave a nervous laugh. "I was so busy figuring how to get out of Hogwarts, that I didn't think about this." He swallowed. "It's strange. When I was standing in the common room with all those people listening to me and doing whatever I asked, I felt like I do when I'm with Ginny, like I can do anything. But..."

"Now you're not so sure. But you got us this far by fooling some pretty smart wizards. Think about Ginny. The only reason I got this far was by thinking about Ron."

"Smart girl." He put his wand away.

"We need to put on your cloak," Hermione said. "We'll just have to hope it works inside the Ministry. If we can follow someone into a lift, then we can use it to get to the ninth level without being seen."

They threw the cloak over themselves and stepped into the telephone box. Harry poked 6–2–4–4–2 on the dial, and the welcome witch's voice filled the air. "Welcome to the Ministry of Magic," her disembodied voice said. "Please state your names and the purpose of your visit."

"Um, Harry Potter and Hermione Granger, to rescue Ginny and Ron Weasley."

"Thank you. One moment please." Two badges slid into the coin return slot. "Thank you, have a pleasant day, and enjoy your visit to the Ministry of Magic. Please stop at the front desk and register your wands. Thank you."

Harry rolled his eyes and handed Hermione's badge to her. The floor began to descend, and in a minute it reached the Atrium, lit as before with a soft golden light. Knots of people stood around, but no one was near them; one or two glanced at the lift but looked away when they saw it was empty. Harry opened the door and they quickly stepped out. When the door closed and the lift started back up, several people looked again, and one, a witch with an Auror's insignia on her robes, came over and peered up at it as it rose out of sight; then she looked around.

Harry and Hermione had moved a few feet away, and stood stock-still. The witch's glance passed over them, but she didn't appear to notice anything. When she walked back to the wizard she had been talking with, Harry took Hermione's hand and they started toward the fountain and the golden gates beyond it. They tried to stay as far as possible from other people, but it was fairly crowded near the gates, and they had to walk within a few feet of some. They heard snatches of conversation and Kingsley Shacklebolt's name spoken several times. They glanced at each other, and Hermione pulled Harry to a stop. They were in front of two wizards who had just come through the gates and had halted near the security desk.

"There had to be a change," said one, an athletic–looking young man with short, blond hair. "The only thing Scrimgeour did in almost two years was arrest a few innocent people and leak stories about them to the papers. If it hadn't been for Potter's Patronus he'd still be twiddling his thumbs with his head stuck up his you–know–what."

"I agree," the other chuckled; he was an older wizard with a beard and a long ponytail. "But is Shacklebolt the man? He stayed away from the Ministry as much as he could."

"I'll grant you that he doesn't know all the ins and outs of how the Muggle–Worthy Excuse Committee works, but right now we need action, not more fiddling with the bureaucracy." He looked around and dropped his voice. "They say he's a member of that secret society, and I think that's just what we need. I don't give a damn about who's official or who's unofficial. If _we_ can't protect Hogwarts then someone has to."

They walked away and Hermione squeezed Harry's hand. "Kingsley's Minister of Magic!" she whispered excitedly. "It must have just happened. That's brilliant news!"

Harry nodded. "Let's go." They passed through the golden gates — the security guard never looked up — to the row of lifts against the far wall. They stood waiting. Minutes passed, and Harry started fidgeting. He stared at the lift doors; he tapped his wand against his leg until Hermione shushed him. He put his hand to his scar.

"It's tingling," he whispered. "He's here." He paused, and his eyes got wider. "So is Ginny."

"What about Ron?" Hermione whispered back. "And how can you tell?"

"Because something's there that..."

"What? What's there?"

He shook his head. "Don't ask. He'll be able to read your mind. It's best if you don't know."

A few feet away a lift clattered to a stop and a witch got out. Harry and Hermione scurried inside, but Harry had to hold the grille open for a split second to allow Hermione to enter, and the witch stopped and looked at it. She walked back to the lift, and was about to open the grilles again, but Harry pushed the button for the ninth level and the lift began to descend. They could see the witch watching it go with frown.

Harry let out his breath. They both gripped their wands as the lift slowly descended. It stopped noisily and the grilles opened on the dark corridor that led to the Department of Mysteries and the iron–bound door, off to one side, that was the entrance to the Wizengamot trial chamber. They crept slowly down the corridor toward the door that opened into the circular room. As they approached the corridor to the side, they heard footsteps coming from it, and they pressed themselves against the wall. A tall, thin wizard emerged from the corridor. He came within inches of them, and as he brushed by he slowed momentarily and glanced right at them, but continued to the lift. He stopped in front of it; he seemed surprised to find it there, and looked back down the corridor for a long moment. At last he turned and disappeared into the lift.

Both Harry and Hermione let out their breaths. "It seems like people here can sense the Invisibility magic," Hermione whispered.

"Come on," Harry said softly, "we're almost there."

Hermione could feel the sweat on his hand as the door to the circular room swung open before them. Harry took the cloak off when they were inside. "I don't think this will hide us from anyone in here."

The room was exactly as they remembered: a dozen doors led from it, and candles with dim, blue flames ringed the wall. Hermione closed the door, and the walls immediately began to spin with a deep rumbling sound; the doors and the candles became blurs. The spinning suddenly stopped. Harry gripped Hermione's hand tightly, and called loudly, "Which is the door to the Chamber of Death?"

A door on their right sprang open. They walked toward it; both of them were trembling. They raised their wands in sweating hands and stepped through the open doorway.


	18. The Chamber of Death

**Chapter Eighteen**

**The Chamber of Death**

The room was larger than Harry remembered. The tiers of stone benches stretched out on both sides, and he could see the far side only dimly. The dais in the central pit was visible, and the veil hanging in the ancient arch fluttered slightly, even though the air was quite still. They stepped away from the door, and Harry raised his wand and lit it. "Don't!" Hermione whispered. "He'll see us."

"If he's here, he already knows where we are," Harry said without lowering his voice. He peered into the shadows. Directly across the pit, on the first tier next to the dais, were two figures lying on the bench, bound with shimmering ropes. Both figures moved, and they saw the faces of Ginny and Ron.

"Harry!" Ginny screamed. "He's over there! Look out!"

A jet of red flame shot out of the dark, aimed at the spot where Harry had been standing. Hermione yelped and jumped back, but not quickly enough; a second flame brushed past her, and she dropped her wand and fell to the bench, clutching her hand.

Harry was kneeling next to Ginny, where he had Apparated the instant she screamed. He bent low and put his hand behind her head and raised it a few inches off the ground. Her face was sweaty and tear–stained. She started to speak, but he pressed his cheek to hers and whispered into her ear, "Don't let him see the clasp. I love you." His fingers found the clip holding the lion in her hair, and he slipped it off and put it on the bench under her back.

"Very nice Apparition, Harry," said a silky voice, and Harry's insides froze. He slowly rose and turned, knowing full well who had spoken but dreading to see him. Lord Voldemort stood in the pit next to the dais. His hood was thrown back, and his serpentine eyes embedded in the skull–like face danced and glinted. "And since that will be your last, I congratulate you on going out in style. No – no, no wands, please." He flicked his wand before Harry could bring his own up, and Harry staggered as ropes appeared out of nowhere and wrapped themselves tightly around him. He dropped his wand, lost his balance, and toppled onto the bench next to Ginny.

"So easy," Voldemort sighed. He looked at the tiers above his captives. "Severus, what are they teaching at Hogwarts these days? Is this the best you could do?"

Harry heard footsteps coming toward them from the top of the room. He twisted around and saw Hermione; her arms and the upper part of her body were bound, and she struggled to keep from falling as she made her way down the tiers. Her left hand bore a red burn mark. Severus Snape was behind her, and every time she paused he gave her a shove to keep her moving.

"Leave her alone, you slimy traitor!" Ron shouted, and he let out a string of curses. Voldemort flicked his wand and for an instant Ron went rigid, his face twisted in pain.

Voldemort sighed again. "Severus, not only are today's students pathetically inept at magic, but they have no respect for their teachers. We'll have to do something about that." He pointed his wand at Ron again, and this time his agony went on for several seconds, and left him gasping for breath.

Snape pushed Hermione down the last step, and she fell heavily onto the bench and stumbled to her knees. She looked desperately at Ron and Harry. "It'll be fine," Harry said loudly, and his voice echoed around the Chamber. "He's as good as dead." He indicated Voldemort with a nod, and Voldemort's high–pitched laugh also echoed off the walls. Hermione looked at Harry in disbelief, then lurched over to Ron and bent over him.

Snape stepped down next to Harry. "You would do better to shut up, Potter," he said with the sneer that Harry knew so well, "unless you want your friends to keep suffering like that."

Harry got a good look at him for the first time. He was gaunter than when Harry had last seen him, standing over him just like this on the lawn at Hogwarts as Hagrid's hut was going up in flames. His hair was, if anything, greasier than ever, and he stank.

"You need a bath, Professor," Harry smiled. "Why don't you untie me and we'll go up to the fountain. You can jump right in. No one will notice you next to the house–elf and the goblin." Snape spat in Harry's face and climbed down to stand next to Voldemort.

"Harry!" Ginny whispered. "What are you doing?" Harry said nothing and did not look at her.

Voldemort started pacing in the pit between the dais and the bench, but stopped in front of Harry. "Harry, my old friend, I see that I need to explain something to you. Severus here _is_ a traitor, as your befuddled best mate has correctly pointed out, but I like traitors, they're so easy to predict. You, however, are not so easy to predict, and I don't like that." He smiled, a death's leer that Harry could not help flinching from.

Voldemort came closer and bent over Harry. Harry tried to shrink away, but Voldemort grabbed the rope around his chest and lifted him off the bench.

"You'll watch your little friends die, Harry Potter, and then _you_ will die." He let Harry drop and walked back to Snape. "But I want all of you to know that your deaths will not be in vain. They will serve a higher purpose. You've all been out and about, and I know what you've been doing, you and dear, departed Albus Dumbledore." He put his hand on Snape's shoulder, and Snape's eyes flickered to it, but he did not move.

Voldemort began pacing again, tapping his wand against his hand as he walked. "You see, Harry, you've created a problem for me, and not many people have ever been able to do that." His eyes glittered. "And they're all dead, by the way. But this problem is serious, because it interferes with the thing I want the most." Again he stopped in front of Harry. "Most of my Horcruxes are gone, Harry, and that makes me very upset. But I admit that I don't know how many, and that's why the faithful traitor Severus is here." He beckoned to Snape.

Harry tried to clear his mind; he put thoughts into it of Quidditch and walks through the castle with Ginny and fantasies of himself and Ginny together in a flat over a shop in Hogsmeade and —.

Snape's eyes bore into his, and Snape was inside his mind. He fought the invasion, and Snape pulled back. He came again, more violently, and he overwhelmed Harry; everything in Harry's mind was laid bare. He felt Snape probing into every corner of every memory. He cried out and slumped back. Snape now knew everything about Merope's grave and the wand, about the Room of Requirement and the Patronus and Ravenclaw's necklace. Voldemort would kill them immediately now that he knew only one Horcrux, Nagini, still existed. Their only hope had been Voldemort's overconfidence.

Harry opened his eyes and looked at Ginny. He wanted the end to come quickly; if Ginny died first, there would be nothing left to fight for, to live for.

Ginny was crying, but also on her face, piercing the tears, was the blazing ferocity he had first seen in the Gryffindor common room almost a year ago. If he was going to die, then he wanted that to be the last thing he saw. But Ginny's eyes bore in just like Snape's. She was still alive, he still had Ginny and Ron and Hermione. He twisted around to face the pit where Voldemort was watching silently but impatiently. The fight was not yet over.

Snape stepped back and sneered again. "It's all there, My Lord," he said to Voldemort. "The wand is gone."

"And the others?"

"You know about them. The locket, the ring, and the book."

"No other?" A frown was on Voldemort's spectral face. He raised his wand, and Snape leaned away from it. "You are sure?"

"Yes, My Lord. He kept nothing from me."

Voldemort stepped toward Harry and poked his wand into Harry's chest. Harry braced himself and closed his eyes, and filled himself with Ginny; he thought about their little "nest" in the common room after Christmas, and waking up on the sofa in the middle of the night with Ginny pressed against him and moonlight falling through the window onto her face. He felt a tendril of evil begin to worm into his mind, but it suddenly pulled back. He opened his eyes and saw Voldemort stagger back, loathing and a touch of pain on his face.

It was a small battle and Harry had won it. But now he was puzzled. Why had Snape not told Voldemort about the necklace? Had he not seen that memory? Harry did not think it possible that he had blocked it; Snape's invasion had been complete. Snape had lied to Voldemort, but why? What was his game? Harry couldn't fathom it, but it did rekindle the only hope they had.

"Why did you bring us here, Tommy?" he called.

Voldemort, who had been pacing again, whirled and brought his wand up. But then he smiled. "Dumbledore tried to provoke me like that once, Harry, but he's dead now. So I'll forgive you for it at present. I brought you here because I need more Horcruxes, exactly four as it rather conveniently turns out."

"No, really? Tommy, Tommy, I've known for seventeen years that you want to kill me. It sounds like he's slipping, doesn't it, Professor Snape? I'll try asking again." Harry spoke very slowly, "Why — did — you — bring — us — to — this — "

"_Crucio!_" Voldemort hissed, and Harry screamed and writhed as pain wracked every part of his body.

"Stop it! Stop it!" Ginny cried. Ron and Hermione also began shouting, and the room echoed, but Voldemort continued to point his wand at Harry.

"My Lord," Snape said loudly, "someone may hear this." Voldemort looked at him with disgust, but dropped his wand. The only sounds now were Harry's soft moans and Ginny and Hermione's sobs.

"You made me lose my temper, Harry," Voldemort said. "That will go badly for you all when the time comes. But I don't hold you completely responsible. You see," he smiled at Harry who's eyes were now open but unfocused, "I can see things from your point of view. I should be able to control my own temper. So enough." He held his hand up, as if to stop Harry from speaking. "Before you die I want to answer your question, impertinent as it was, and give you a small demonstration of my power and the pitiful state of your own."

He raised his wand, and a door above them opened. It was not the door Harry and Hermione had come in, and they could not see anyone enter. But both Voldemort and Snape watched intently, and in a moment the four captives sensed something moving toward them. A huge snake head appeared on the tier above. The serpent descended to their bench; it was very large, and its body seemed to go on and on as it slithered around, between, and over them, its forked tongue darting in and out. They all tried to pull away, except Harry, who just stared impassively at Nagini. She finally went down into the pit.

Snape moved slightly away from the snake, but Voldemort spoke a few hissing, sibilant words and reached down and caressed her head. "She's hungry, you know," he said, leering at Harry, "and I'll be feeding her soon. Maybe I'll be democratic, and let you four decide who." Hermione moaned, and began weeping again. Ron leaned until his head was touching hers.

Voldemort spread his arms. "Well, now that we're all here, I want to show you something, Harry, and this will also answer the question you so rudely asked. I invited you to this particular place for two reasons. The first is that I thought you might prefer dying in the same place as your foolish, blood–traitor of a godfather. The second reason is to show you how impossible it will be for anyone except me to fulfill that sad, sad prophecy."

He stepped onto the dais. As soon as his back turned, Harry rolled closer to Ginny. "Don't talk, just listen," he whispered urgently. "You've got to do something that will get him really, really angry. Do you understand? And when I say move, you've got to move off your lion."

He did not wait for her to answer; in truth, he didn't want to see her reaction. If Ginny did what he asked, she might live but she also might never forgive him. But he saw no other way. He rolled away and looked at the dais. Voldemort had not turned yet, and Snape was also looking up at him.

Voldemort moved very close to the arch and the fluttering veil, and now Harry heard a new sound: whispers from behind the veil, and they became louder as Voldemort approached. He whirled triumphantly; his eyes glowed, and red snakes danced in them. He reached up and put his arm through the veil.

The whispers became distinct voices; their words were incomprehensible, but their anger was unmistakable. A ghostly hand with skinless, skeletal fingers emerged from the veil. It grabbed for Voldemort's shoulder, but the fingers passed right through him, and the hand disappeared back into the veil.

Voldemort's laugh, loud and victorious, was magnified by its own echoes. He raised his arms triumphantly above his head. "You see, Harry!" he cried. "I am immortal! Death can not claim me, even with but two of my Horcruxes intact." He laughed again. "Now, it is time."

Ginny suddenly began screaming at him. "You pathetic pig! You'll never get away with this! Harry proved that your Horcruxes can be destroyed. Even if you kill us someone else will do it! No one's afraid of you anymore, Harry destroyed your dementors, too! Your Death Eaters are gone, a few drops of truth serum and they'll tell everything! Half the Ministry is on their way here right now! You'll be in Azkaban and a dementor's dinner by this time to—'

Voldemort raised his wand. Ginny stopped in mid–sentence and began gagging. Her face turned red as she tried vainly to draw breath. Voldemort stepped off the dais and walked calmly over to the captives, shaking his head. Harry thrashed and kicked uselessly at him, and Ron and Hermione both began screaming. Voldemort suddenly let Ginny go, and her whole body heaved as she gulped air.

"This will not do," Voldemort said as though thinking out loud. "I don't want to silence you, but this is very unpleasant." He looked at Hermione. "Miss Granger, you are undoubtedly the most intelligent person here aside from myself. I understand that Professor Snape likes to call you an insufferable know–it–all. You are very well read, in fact you received a wonderful Christmas gift from Harry of a book which, sad to say, I've never had time to read. Can you tell me if there's anything in it that will help us in the present circumstances?"

Fear took Hermione's voice, and she did not answer. She looked frantically at Harry and Ron, and all they could see in her eyes was terror. "Oh, come," Voldemort said. "Cat named Crookshanks got your tongue?" He looked at Snape and laughed. "Lord Voldemort told a joke!"

Ginny spoke again, a sneer in her voice. "You won't find anything in the encyclopedia to help you, Tommy. There's nothing in it about psychopathic perverts."

Voldemort's smile faded. "Oh, Ginevra, I am so sorry you said that. Goodbye." His wand came up, and Ginny felt fingers closing around her throat and unbearable pain engulfing her. Her eyes bulged, and she turned her head to Harry and he saw her dying. Her face was horribly distorted and turning blue. She heaved and kicked. Her hair whipped around as she twisted her head back and forth. Voldemort's high, shrill laugh filled the air.

"Ginny, move!" Harry screamed. She arched her back and lurched toward him; the lion clasp lay on the bench in full view. It burst into pieces and the stag exploded out, wreathed in fire, its crimson eyes flaming like blowtorches. It rammed Voldemort, picked him up in its antlers and tossed him into the air. He soared directly through the veil and came out the other side. He fell heavily on the dais, stunned.

The instant Voldemort passed through the veil, the ropes holding Harry, Ron, and Ginny fell away. Harry sprang up. Nagini was curled on the floor of the pit, and Harry spoke to her, _"Move! Move! Your master is there!"_ and Nagini climbed to the dais, her body weaving and arching. She stopped in front of the veil and raised her head and swayed; her tongue flicked in and out. _"Through there! Your master is there!"_ Harry again spoke in Parseltongue. Nagini slithered through the veil and was gone.

Harry picked up his wand from the bench where it had fallen. Ginny staggered to her feet and stood next to him, clutching his arm for support. Ron bent over Hermione trying to loosen the ropes binding her. The stag stood a few feet away, prancing nervously; the light radiating from its body lit up the room. Snape was nowhere to be seen.

"Ginny, I'm — " Harry started to speak, but she pointed to the dais.

There was movement behind the veil, and Voldemort stumbled around the arch. His robes were singed and torn and his face was bloody. His left arm hung limply at his side, but his eyes still glowed red and he still held his wand. The stag pawed at the ground and launched itself at him. His wand flashed and the stag veered off and crashed into the first tier of stone benches in a shower of sparks.

Voldemort was breathing with difficulty and leaning on the arch. He did not notice, as a transfixed Harry did, that the voices from behind the veil had again grown louder and many bony hands were reaching out from it. They grasped his legs and his torso, and this time they did not pass through his body. Voldemort felt them, and suddenly there was panic in his face. His head jerked up and he pointed his wand at Harry; his voice came out in a terrible screech, _"Avada Kedavra!"_.

But Voldemort was in death's grip, and his Curse was weakened. And at the instant the green flame shot from his wand toward Harry's chest, Ginny jerked him aside. The Curse struck Harry's hand; his wand shattered, and the exposed phoenix feather burst into flame. He screamed and fell to his knees, clutching his smoking hand. He never saw the skeletal hands, a dozen or more, that reached from the veil and pulled the flailing Voldemort inexorably into it. With a wail of rage the Dark Lord vanished through the veil and was never seen in the world again.

Harry lay on the bench, moaning and clutching the wrist of his burned right hand. Ginny knelt next to him holding his right arm. "Harry! No! No!" she cried.

A hand grasped her shoulder and roughly shoved her aside. She looked around; it was Severus Snape. He climbed onto the bench and knelt on one knee and touched Harry's hand with his wand, muttering under his breath. Harry stopped moaning although he still held his wrist; he looked up, dazed.

"I'm sorry, Potter," Snape said. "That's the best I can do. Your hand cannot be made whole again."

"Like Dumbledore," Hermione whispered; she and Ron were standing in the pit looking at Harry. Snape nodded.

Ginny pushed Snape away and knelt next to Harry again. She took his shriveled, blackened hand in both of hers. She was weeping, and her tears fell on Harry's hand. He let go of his wrist and stared at her, then at Snape in bewilderment. "Why?" he asked Snape. "Why didn't you tell him about the necklace? You were his servant. I don't understand."

Snape stood. "You never understood anything, did you, Potter? I'll tell you one thing only." He gazed at Ginny, who glared back. "Lily Evans," he said simply. He returned their dumbfounded stares coldly.

There were shouts from the top of the room. Every door flew open at the same time, and Aurors poured into the Chamber. Nymphadora Tonks took the tiers in a few great leaps and landed in the pit. "Are you all okay? Where is Voldemort?" She saw Harry's hand cradled in Ginny's arms. "Good God, what happened? Get the Healer down here!" she called up to an Auror standing in a doorway. She knelt on the bench next to Ginny. "How did this happen? Wasn't Voldemort here? And Severus Snape?"

Ginny turned, but Snape and Harry's stag had vanished. "Voldemort was here, but he's gone."

"No!" Harry struggled to sit up. "How could he get away, my stag —"

Ginny put a hand on his lips. "Hush. He's dead. You destroyed the last Horcrux and he was pulled through the veil. He's gone, Harry. It's over." Harry slumped against her; she wrapped her arms around him and rocked him gently. The Aurors standing in the pit looked at each other in stunned silence. Some of them stared at the veil, fluttering gently in the still air.

"Go get Kingsley," Tonks said to one. "And where the hell is that Healer?"

The witch who had healed Harry's foot in Cornwall was climbing down the tiers. She stepped into the pit, and when she saw Harry's hand she sucked in her breath. "We've got to get him to St. Mungo's," she said. "Immediately."

Many hands reached to help Harry stand, but he would not let go of Ginny, and Ron took Harry's left arm and put it around his shoulders. "Where's my wand?" Harry said shakily, looking around. Hermione stepped in front of him; she held the broken pieces of Ginny's hair clasp in one hand and bits of wood and a shriveled, gray feather in the other.

"I don't think even Spellotape can fix that one," Ron muttered, and Harry burst out laughing. Ginny grinned; she was holding Harry's right hand against her and her left arm around his waist. She looked across at Ron, and they smiled.

# # # #

In less than an hour Harry was at St. Mungo's Hospital in a room on the fourth floor, sitting up in bed with his hand bandaged. The room was already becoming crowded despite the best efforts of Hestia Derwent, the Healer who had come to the Chamber of Death with the Wizard Hit Team. Molly and Arthur were the first to arrive; Molly cried the entire time she was there, and hugged Ron then Ginny then Harry then Hermione and back around again, several times. Kingsley Shacklebolt swept in, wearing multi–colored robes and a huge, gold earring, and announced in his deep, booming voice that Harry had been awarded the Order of Merlin, First Class; Harry refused to take the medal, so Kingsley handed it to Ginny with a wink, and she tucked it inside her robes.

Stewart Shunpike came in with his photographer and his brother Stan in tow, but Harry asked if he could come back tomorrow and promised to give him an interview for as long as Stewart wanted. He conceded one photo of himself, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione, but refused to allow his bandaged hand in the picture. When Alastor Moody limped in, Harry grinned and asked what he was going to do now with his collection of Sneakoscopes. Mad–Eye apologized for what had happened in the lane outside Hogsmeade and ensconced himself in the hallway in front of the door. For as long as Harry was at St. Mungo's, he would not allow anyone or anything in without his personal inspection.

The rest of the Weasley family arrived, even Percy who solemnly shook Harry's hand and asked, bending over Harry and speaking in a low voice, if Harry could get him a job interview with the new Minister of Magic. The twins promised to keep their eyes open in Diagon Alley for anyone selling a wand; rumors were already flying that Ollivander would be re-opening his shop. Fleur gave Harry a kiss full on the lips, and he turned red and grabbed Ginny's hand. Bill told him that within minutes of the announcement that Voldemort was dead — and now everyone was saying his name — the value of the Galleon had almost doubled, and Harry's account at Gringotts along with it.

Tonks and Remus came early in the evening; Tonks didn't enter immediately, but had a short conversation with Mad–Eye who told her to keep her Aurors out of his way while he guarded Harry. She laughed, and when she entered the room she had grown her hair out into a beehive a foot tall that changed color every few seconds. Harry had to ask her to stop; it was making him dizzy. She told him that by tomorrow evening every known Death Eater would be in custody at the Ministry or in Azkaban; the ones already arrested were claiming the Imperius Curse as their alibi. Trials would be starting in a few days for the ones who had committed crimes, including several who had murdered.

Filius Flitwick and Minerva McGonagall came later; they had waited until the dinner meal at Hogwarts was finished, and Flitwick described the wild celebration that erupted in the Great Hall when the Headmistress announced that their friends were safe and that Voldemort was dead. Harry asked Ginny to bring his robes to him, and he took Rowena Ravenclaw's necklace from its pocket and handed it to Professor Flitwick. The teacher's eyes glistened as he bowed to Harry. McGonagall had a tiny smile on her face; Harry glanced at her and she scowled fiercely, but then laughed.

The Healer finally chased away the last visitors — Molly and Arthur — and checked Harry's bandage one last time. "I've recommended that you three stay here for, ah, observation," she said to Ginny, Ron, and Hermione. "There's a room for the girls right across the hall."

She left, and they heard her speak briefly to Mad–Eye, and then it was quiet, and they were alone. Ginny, who had no intention of leaving the room until Harry did, took off her boots and sat next to him on the bed, while Ron and Hermione pulled up chairs. Ginny, Ron, and Hermione looked at each other, and they all looked at Harry.

He leaned back against his pillows and stared into space. No one said anything. Ginny finally reached for Harry's left hand, but he pulled it away. "What's wrong?" she said.

He examined his bandage, avoiding her eyes. "I had to do it, Ginny. I couldn't see any other way. I almost killed you." He still wouldn't look at her.

She swung around and knelt on the bed at his side. "You saved us, Harry. We would all be dead if it wasn't for what you did, for _everything_ you did. Don't you ever apologize for that again. And nobody ever died because of you."

"That's not true. My parents, Sirius, Dumbledore, Cedric..."

"They died because Voldemort killed them or wanted them dead," Hermione said.

"And you would have died today to save us," Ron added. "So don't go off feeling like everyone else is making the big sacrifice just for you."

Harry shook his head. "I just know that when I asked Ginny to make Voldemort attack her, I knew what he would do, and I was afraid she wouldn't forgive me."

Ginny was still kneeling, and she pulled Harry's head against her bosom and held him there. She looked at Ron and Hermione and sighed. Harry put his arms around her; when he finally let go, there were tears on his face.

They stayed up for another hour, but didn't talk much, and finally Harry dozed off and Ginny fell asleep leaning on his shoulder. Ron and Hermione tip–toed to two other beds in the room, and they all slept, but not soundly. No one said it, but no one wanted to be alone that night. Later, Mad–Eye looked in — with his normal eye — and saw them all sleeping, and quietly closed the door.

The next morning Hestia Derwent bustled in just after dawn. "There's visitors everywhere," she complained. "They're upsetting the whole hospital. Reporters, politicians, salesmen... Everyone says they're related to you, Harry, and here I thought you were an orphan and all alone in the world. There's even a house–elf."

"Dobby!" exclaimed Harry. "Send him up!"

"Not right now, if you don't mind." She removed the bandage and frowned at the blackened hand. She muttered under her breath as she held it up.

"What?" said Ginny; she was standing at the foot of Harry's bed, brushing her hair.

Harry smiled at her. "It doesn't hurt. When can I leave? " he asked the Healer.

Hestia sighed. "I don't know what to tell you. I've never even heard of a wound from a Killing Curse, except..." She glanced at his scar. "You have the only two in the world."

There was a knock at the door, and Alastor put his head in. "Edward Pendragon and his daughter are downstairs," he growled. "They want to see you, they say it's important, can't wait." He looked at the Healer. "Your neighbor."

"Well, send them up, then," she said, as she wrapped a fresh bandage around Harry's hand. "I'll be back this afternoon, Harry. There's a very famous Healer from China who's Portkeying in just to see you." She smiled and patted his arm, and left.

In a few minutes there was another knock and Elspeth skipped in, followed by her father. "Harry!" she cried. "We all got detention but then Professor McGonagall said at dinner that no one would have to go." She giggled. "But you'd better watch out for Mr. Filch when you get back. He's yelling at everyone now. And there's a house–elf from school downstairs named Dobby. He says he'll come see you after we leave." She looked at his bandage. "What happened to your hand?"

"Elspeth," her father scolded. "Be polite. Harry got hurt."

Harry smiled and waved the hand. "It actually doesn't hurt much anymore. Someone from China's coming just to take a look at it." He paused and said more somberly, "Someone else told me it would never get better, but I think it's better already. Anyway, I have another one." He waved his left hand in the air and grinned again.

Elspeth smiled coyly and looked at her father. "We have something for you, Harry" she said.

Edward stepped forward and took a box from an inside pocket; it was thin and flat and about a foot long. It was made of polished, dark wood, and was held closed by a bright, gold fastener and hasp. He handed it to Elspeth who held it in both hands and presented it to Harry. "This is my family's," she said solemnly, "and we're giving it to you because you need it."

Harry took the box; Ginny sat on the bed next to him, and Ron and Hermione stood on the other side. Harry opened the box and stared at what was inside: a wand lying on a red velvet cushion. "Oh, Harry," Ginny whispered. "Is that —?"

"I can't take this," Harry said, and handed the box back to Elspeth. "How do you even know I can use it?"

Elspeth pushed the box back to him. "Try it."

Harry looked at Edward. "But it belongs to your family."

"We have plenty of other things that also belonged to him, Harry. The only reason this wand came back to us is because you found it. Go ahead, try it."

Harry remembered back to the day, more than six years ago, when he stood in Ollivander's shop with Hagrid, trying dozens of wands, and then holding the last one, the brother of Voldemort's wand. "How do you know Voldemort didn't use this after he stole it?" he said.

Edward shook his head. "We stopped at the Ministry and they tested it. There's absolutely no trace that it's been used for at least a few hundred years. If that's true, then the last person to use it was Merlin himself, because no one in our family ever did. And somehow I don't think that this wand would choose Voldemort."

Elspeth held the box in front of Harry and grinned. He took the wand from its cushion. It felt very solid; it was a little heavier than his old one and less supple, and about an inch shorter. Like the one he got from Ollivander, it felt warm in his hand. He slowly raised it and waved it at the ceiling; a single, purple flame blossomed from it like a flower.

"It's yours, Harry," Ginny whispered. "The wand of Merlin is yours."


	19. Beloved Ginny

**Chapter Nineteen**

**Beloved Ginny**

Harry leaned back against his pillows and held the wand in front of him. He was having trouble comprehending what was in his hand; he couldn't imagine what kind of magic this wand must have done.

"Thank you," he said, his voice faltering. "I'm — I'm almost afraid to use it. What kind of wood is it? What's inside?"

"It's olive wood," Edward Pendragon replied, "but no one knows for sure what's in the core. Maybe they can figure it out at the Ministry. The family legend has it that there are two pieces in it from a single griffin, a wing feather from the eagle–part and a claw from the lion–part. At least that's what we think. The olive must have come from abroad, but the griffin could be from Britain."

Harry put the wand down on the bed. He looked at Ginny and they both giggled nervously. Harry turned sheepishly back to Edward. "I'm sorry, I guess I'm kind of speechless. It — it's overwhelming."

Edward nodded. "I understand, but I think you'll get used to it." He grinned.

Hermione put her hand on Harry's. "You know, on top of everything you've learned how to do since Christmas, having this wand probably makes you the most powerful wizard in England."

Harry groaned. "Oh, Merlin, please don't say that!"

There was silence for a moment, then everyone laughed, and Ginny hugged him. "Now I really want to be your girlfriend," she said, and everyone laughed again.

Soon the Pendragons left — Elspeth had to get back to Hogwarts — and the four friends sat in silence for a few moments. Finally Ron spoke.

"This is all so strange," he said. "Twenty–four hours ago we were about to play a Quidditch match, and now we're sitting here wondering what comes after you kill Voldemort and what the hell do you do with the coolest wand in the world. And in between, I thought Ginny and I were going to die." He looked quizzically at Harry. "Not that I'm complaining, but how did you get there so fast?"

Harry told him and Ginny about the events of the previous day after the attack on Hogsmeade. Ron shook his head when he heard about the gathering in the Gryffindor common room of students from all the Houses. "Even Slytherin. That's amazing."

"It doesn't surprise me," said Hermione. "I always suspected that Elspeth was put there for a purpose, not just because the Sorting Hat thought she belonged there. I'll bet that by the time she leaves school there'll be a completely different attitude in that House."

There was a knock and the Weasley clan entered, followed by Dobby who peeked shyly from behind Arthur's legs. Harry saw him and called him to the bedside. Fred dropped a copy of the _Prophet_ on the bed, as Molly hugged her way around the room again. Hermione was about to produce chairs for everyone, but Harry stopped her. "Wait, let me try," he grinned. He picked up his new wand, and before he could even flick it a chair appeared behind each person who was not already sitting.

"Harry!" George exclaimed, "where did you get that wand? We haven't heard anything in Diagon Alley about new wands."

Harry put his bandaged hand on Ginny's knee. "You tell them."

"The Pendragons were here," Ginny said, "and they gave Harry the wand of Merlin. And the first thing he does with it is conjure up a bunch of chairs for people to put their bums in." She laughed. "I guess times are changing."

"Yes, times has changed," squeaked Dobby, "thanks to you, Harry Potter!"

But everyone else was silent, dumb–struck by what they had just heard. Finally George spoke. "I guess I'll tell my sources to stop looking for wands."

"Harry, that's brilliant," Fred added. They all started talking at once, and Molly hugged everyone, not just the usual four. After she let go of Dobby, the house–elf's tongue hung out and he gasped for breath.

Hermione picked up the newspaper, and Ron looked over her shoulder. "What's the _Prophet_ say?" he asked. Hermione held up the front page. "LORD VOLDEMORT IS DEAD!" the headline screamed, and underneath it was the photograph of Ginny, Ron, and Hermione sitting around Harry on his bed; they were smiling and waving, and Ginny–in–the–photo planted a kiss on Harry's cheek.

"Hey," said Harry, "I don't remember that."

"They dubbed it in later," said George. "It's a true representation of reality, though, isn't it, Ginny?"

"What do you know about reality, George?" Ginny smiled. "Hermione, what's the story say?"

"No, please," Harry protested. "We can all read it later." But he was shouted down, and Hermione began reading.

"The sub–head says, 'The Chosen One Defeats The Dark Lord In The Final Battle.' By Stewart Shunpike." Harry covered his face with a pillow. "'Harry Potter and his band of intrepid companions have rid the world of Lord Voldemort. Mr. Potter was injured in the fight and is being treated for a severe wound to his hand at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. The others, Miss Ginny Weasley, Mr. Ronald Weasley, and Miss Hermione Granger, all fellow–students of Mr. Potter at Hogwarts in the House of Gryffindor, were not badly injured, although Miss Granger sustained a spell–burn to her own hand.'" Hermione waved her hand to show a red mark on the palm.

She continued. "'The Dark Lord met his end by being pulled through the Veil in the Chamber of Death in the Department of Mysteries at the Ministry of Magic. There is some disagreement among experts about the veracity of this point, since it has never happened before. But newly–appointed Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, declared that he was perfectly confident that Voldemort's victims from the past did indeed wreak vengeance on their tormentor and murderer.

"'Details are sketchy at this time as to how both the Dark Lord and the four Hogwarts students were able to enter the Ministry undetected. However, three officials stated that someone entered the ninth level of the Ministry wearing an Invisibility cloak shortly before the Final Battle took place. Sources at Hogwarts have told this reporter that Harry Potter does own an Invisibility cloak.

"'The events in the Ministry followed a raid by Death Eaters on the village of Hogsmeade, during which Miss Weasley and Mr. Weasley were kidnaped. See story on page two.

"'Sources have also told the _Prophet_ that Severus Snape, a former teacher at Hogwarts who is wanted for the murder of Professor and Headmaster Albus Dumbledore, was also in the Chamber of Death, and that he may have aided Mr. Potter in his confrontation with Lord Voldemort. Professor Snape's whereabouts are unknown at this time.'"

"What was Snape up to?" Bill interrupted. "Harry, didn't you say he lied to Voldemort about the Horcruxes?"

"Yeah, he did, and when I asked him why, all he would say was my mother's name. I still don't understand it."

"Ask Remus," Arthur said. "Things happened when they were all at Hogwarts. Severus was a very bitter man, and I'm afraid a lot of the bitterness came out against you, Harry. Snape hated all of them — Remus, Sirius, your father, and Pettigrew — but he never hated Lily. I don't know much about it, though."

"He did try to fix your hand, dear," Molly added.

"Shall I continue?" asked Hermione.

"No!" said Harry loudly. "We all know how to read. Please! You know I don't like that."

"Okay." Hermione folded the paper. "Just one more thing about Snape, though. There's an article on page three about some of the Death Eaters who have been captured. One of them is Draco Malfoy. The story says he wanted to go on the raid to Hogsmeade, but Snape kept him from going. If he had gone, he probably would have been killed."

Ginny shuddered. "Thank goodness he wasn't there! And please, don't read anything else about that." Harry put his hand on her shoulder, and she leaned against him. Molly came around to Ginny's side of the bed and sat next to her. There was silence in the room until Dobby spoke.

"They was deserving what they gots!" he squeaked emphatically. "Lot's of them had house–elves that hated them! You has done those house–elves a big favor, Ginny Weasley, and you, too, Ron Weasley!" He folded his arms and glared defiantly around the room.

"That's a valid point of view," said George.

"That some of us agree with," added Fred.

"Well, you weren't the ones who had to do it," Ginny declared angrily. "You didn't see them all going up in flames or hear the screaming." She buried her face in Harry's shoulder, and her mother put her arm around her.

"I agree," said Ron in a low voice, and everyone turned to him. "It was horrible, and I'll never forget it. I'd do it again if I had to, but I hope I never have to." The twins looked at each other and shrugged.

"Zat is a very honorable t'ing to say," Fleur put her hand on Ron's, and he looked at her and smiled wanly.

"It didn't feel very honorable. I didn't even know what I was doing. One of them grabbed Ginny, and the next thing I knew there were balls of fire all over the place."

"Please," said Ginny in a voice muffled by Harry's pajamas, "can we talk about something else?"

"Yes, let's do that," Molly added quickly. "Harry, we heard that a Healer from Japan was coming here to see your hand."

"I heard it was China," Harry said.

And so the morning passed, and when a wizard came in with a tray of luncheon sandwiches, the Weasleys left, Molly saying they would all be back to visit as long as Harry was in the hospital. Dobby bowed to Harry and his friends; he said he would not return because he was needed at Hogwarts to prepare the castle. Harry wanted to know what he meant but Dobby simply smiled and waved goodbye.

Shortly after lunch Hestia Derwent entered with a wizard and two witches. One of them was the Healer from China; she was dressed in beautiful, pale blue silk robes, with a caftan on her head like the one Professor Dumbledore wore. She introduced herself to Harry in perfect English as Chang Yun — "last name first" — from a small town near Shanghai. "It's small to us," she smiled as she unwrapped Harry's bandage, "but to you Englishmen it would be a large city. Now, let us see..." She took Harry's blackened hand and examined it carefully; the wizard and the other witch leaned closer and they all murmured to each other. Ginny sat on the bed and held Harry's left hand.

Chang ran her finger, then her wand over the hand; she poked and prodded, and bent the fingers, glancing at Harry as she did. "I'm going to give it a little shock," she said. "It won't hurt, but you might feel something." She brought her wand near the palm and a small blue spark flew from the wand.

Harry shook his head. "Nothing," he muttered; the Healer nodded. Then she looked at Harry's forehead. "May I?" she said, and ran her finger over the scar. Harry glanced at Ginny, and she squeezed his hand. It was something she had occasionally done, and Harry always liked the feeling; her fingers were soft and warm. The Healer's finger was somewhat rougher, but the touch was gentle. When she finished, she leaned back and thought for a moment; she glanced at the witch and wizard who had come in with her.

"Harry — may I call you Harry? — I must be frank. This is a severe wound, and it's remarkable that it does not give you great discomfort. Whoever treated it must have been very skilled, or else," she smiled, "had the healing powers of a phoenix's tears. But I'm afraid that even such a treatment would not restore the hand, only ease the pain."

"What are you saying?" Harry asked quietly. "That my hand will never get better?"

"I'm not saying that yet, but it may be true. I'm sorry. There are still things to try, but I want to be honest with you, of all people."

Harry stared at his hand. He took his left one from Ginny and held them up together. "When will you try... other things?"

"In a few hours. Some potions must be prepared. There are a few that take longer, and I will leave instructions with the good staff here." She nodded at her companions. "I cannot stay long."

After a few more minutes they left, and the four friends were alone again. It was quiet except for the occasional growls they heard from Moody when people passed their door. Harry did not speak, and the others looked at each other with troubled faces. Ginny sat next to him on the bed, but he turned his face from her and did not want her to hold his hand. After ten minutes of uncomfortable silence, she asked Hermione in a whisper if she and Ron could leave them alone for a while. "And ask Alastor not to let anyone in," she told them as they were leaving. They shut the door behind them and Ginny again sat down on the bed next to Harry.

He finally looked at her. "What do you want from me, Ginny? What am I supposed to do with only one hand?" He dropped his gaze from her blazing eyes.

"I don't have any idea what you're supposed to do," she said pointedly, "but I do remember a promise you made. You told me you would never walk away from me again. I want you to look at me." She turned his face toward her with her hand, then took his left hand and held both of hers next to it. "How many hands do you see?"

He looked away again, and she turned his head back. "Look at me, Harry. How many hands do you see?"

"Okay!" he snapped. "I see three hands. Two are yours and one is mine. What are you getting at?"

"Three hands. That's one more than anyone else I know has. Your promise never to walk away means that it's about us, not about you or me or even you and me. Us."

He dropped his hand and leaned back against the pillows, but this time he didn't turn away. "I thought that Snape was being... well, being Snape when he said it would never heal. But what if it doesn't?"

She picked up his good hand and pressed it to her cheek. "You can still do this," she said softly. Harry caressed her face, and leaned slowly toward her and kissed her gently. Ginny put her hand on his chest. "There's lots of things you only need one hand for," she said, and pushed him down.

Later in the afternoon there was a soft knock at the door and Ginny scrambled up. She opened the door a crack; it was Hermione and Ron. Ginny glanced back at Harry; he was sitting up in the bed, straightening out the bedclothes. She let them in, and Hermione looked from Harry to Ginny. "Is everything okay?" she asked.

"I'll check. Harry, is everything okay?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Yeah. Everything's fine. Great. In fact, it's never been better."

Ginny turned to Hermione with a smile. "Life is beautiful. How about with you two? Where did you go?"

"We took a taxi to Diagon Alley," Ron said, oblivious to the look between Hermione and Ginny. "Harry, you wouldn't believe what's going on. I think every wizard in England's there. And the Leaky Cauldron's packed to the rafters. About a hundred people tried to stand us drinks. Tom asked where you were. He said if you showed up he could retire on the profits, so many people would come to see you." Ron was still basking in the attention he had gotten.

"I think I'll skip it," Harry grimaced as he buttoned up his pajama top.

"Oh, and that reporter is downstairs, the one you promised an interview. I think he tried to get in earlier but Moody told him to go cool his heels. We saw him in the waiting room talking to the Healer."

"I guess I'll have to see him," Harry sighed.

Harry gave his interview to Stewart Shunpike, and he told the reporter to find out if his brother, Stan, had got his old job back on the Knight Bus. Later, Hestia Derwent and the Healer Chang returned with several bottles of potions and parchments with instructions for applying them and with charms to use. "I've sent an owl to your Madam Pomfrey with copies of these parchments," she said. "But we have been doing some research, and I have to tell you that it's not likely that your hand will improve, at least not anytime soon."

"Well, there's lots of things you can do with one hand," Harry said. "I'm learning more of them all the time." He gave Ginny a momentary smile, and when Ron also looked at her, she turned away from his arched eyebrows.

Chang's eyes twinkled. "You will do well, Harry Potter. It has been an honor attending you." She bowed her head and left, her pale, blue robes fluttering behind her like a meadow of forget–me–nots in a soft breeze.

Hestia watched her go, and turned to Harry. "There's no reason for you to stay here any longer, Harry. We've cleaned and patched all your robes. You can leave whenever you like."

They decided to wait until the next morning so that they would have a full day when they got back to Hogwarts. They anticipated a few celebrations at school, and Harry wanted one of them to be with the students who helped him and Hermione get out of the castle. There was also another piece of business he wanted to take care of, and it required a little planning since it meant a trip to Diagon Alley. Harry sent a message to Fred and George, and early in the evening they all Apparated into the back room of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, Ginny coming along on Harry's elbow.

"It's a bit of a party out there," Fred told Harry. "When they see you they'll think you've come to celebrate with them."

"We'll do it fast, in and out," Harry said. "I only want to go to one place." Fred seemed skeptical.

George led them out a side door and into the Alley, and it was as crowded and noisy as Fred had described. At first no one noticed them, but soon Ron and Ginny's now–notorious red hair started attracting attention, and finally someone spotted Harry. They were quickly surrounded by enthusiastic well–wishers; people started asking for Harry's autograph and offered to send him potions and charms for his hand. A motherly–looking witch asked Ginny when she and Harry were getting married, and then told her which dates, from an astrological point of view, would be the best.

Ron and Hermione were the center of their own group of admirers, and Ron was enjoying himself immensely. Three blushing young witches — they looked even younger than Hogwarts first–years — stood in front of Ron. "Please, Mr. Weasley," one giggled, "could you..." She handed him a quill and pushed up her sleeve, exposing her arm. The other two did the same, and they grinned at him expectantly.

"No problem, my dears," he said. He took her hand and signed his name on her arm, then on the others', as Hermione tried to suppress a laugh. The witches pushed their way back through the crowd, and as Ron and Hermione walked away they could hear their shrieks.

Harry and Ginny were making no progress toward Harry's goal until several Aurors showed up, attracted by the cheers and shouts. They formed a phalanx and escorted them to the vendor's cart a few yards from Gringotts. They held the crowd back as Ginny hugged the old hag who was still there selling jewelry and hair clips. The witch cried when she heard what had happened to the one she sold Ginny last summer. She did not have any more golden lion clasps because they had all been snapped up when the story about Ginny's had appeared in the _Prophet_. Ginny picked out three new clips — a dragon, a unicorn, and, with a smile at Harry, a griffin. George dutifully tested them for magic and declared them clean. The crowd applauded as Harry paid and clipped the griffin into Ginny's hair. The old witch curtseyed as the Aurors led the foursome away; she was immediately swamped with customers who bought everything else she had for sale.

Tom showed up from the Leaky Cauldron, and with Ron's help convinced Harry to make a brief appearance there, promising him free meals and drinks for life. Harry was actually starting to have a good time, and he didn't take much persuading. There was no room inside because word had spread that Harry Potter and his friends were in Diagon Alley, and wizards and witches had been pouring into the inn from the street entrance trying to get through it to the Alley. The four of them had to sit on the bar as cheers and toasts rang out; people handed them drinks and, by the time they pushed their way outside two hours later, they were all slightly tipsy.

Tom got one of the Aurors to escort them back to St. Mungo's. Mad–Eye scowled and growled at them as they wove their way down the hall to the room, and Hestia Derwent made a few tisking noises before handing out goblets with a potion to sober them up. They fell into separate beds — Ginny had to push Harry back into his own — and when Molly and Arthur arrived as dawn was breaking they had all slept soundly and awoken refreshed.

Arthur was wide awake himself but Molly looked tired. She presented Harry with a small, plain wooden box. "Charlie sent me the material," she said, "and I stayed up all night sewing it for you, dear, but don't worry about that."

Harry opened the box, and inside was a dark red, dragon–hide glove. They called Hestia in and she removed the bandage and Harry slipped the glove on; it fit perfectly. It was handsome and supple. "Thank you, Mrs. Weasley," he smiled. "This is brilliant!"

Molly hugged everyone in the room again. They brought Mad–Eye inside — she hugged him, too — and they all ate breakfast together. Finally, Hestia wished them well, and after thanking Moody for standing guard, they went downstairs for the Ministry car that would take them in comfort to the Burrow, where they would Floo into Hogwarts. They arrived at school after an uneventful trip. At Harry's request they entered through the Gryffindor fireplace, but there was still a crowd waiting to welcome them back. Harry looked for Dean, and saw him standing off to one side with Neville, Parvati, and Lavender.

"I knew you'd be back," Dean said, shaking his hand after pausing for a second when he saw the glove. "It was hell to pay, though, after you left. McGonagall blew her stack, gave everyone detention for life. Next time take me with you. I'd rather face Voldemort than her. Can you imagine? Everyone in Gryffindor was on detention except you four." They all laughed, and Ginny kissed his cheek.

"I guess you got out of detention only because we came back," she joked.

"So, how's the hand?" Neville asked. "The _Prophet_ said a Healer came from Tibet to treat it." The students around them, who had been listening and smiling, lost their grins.

Harry held up his gloved right hand. "She was from China, but she... she didn't think they could do anything about it."

Oh, I'm sorry," Neville mumbled, chagrined that he had asked.

"But Harry," one of the first–years, Chantilly York, called out, "how will you catch the Snitch in the next match?"

Jimmy Peakes poked her hard in the back, and Ginny glared at the mortified girl. "What makes you think he can't?" she demanded angrily.

"N–nothing," the girl stammered. "I'm sorry." She burst into tears and rushed past Harry toward the stairs to the girls' dorm, but he reached out his gloved hand and stopped her. She looked at the glove, then apprehensively at Harry.

"Don't go," he said quietly, and looked around at the faces staring at him. "This is supposed to be a celebration. I haven't even thought about the match. If I can't catch the Snitch, then I won't play. But I don't want to worry about it today." He put his arm around Chantilly. "Don't you worry about it either," he said to her. She nodded without looking at him.

The crowd broke up into knots, and Harry walked to the boys' staircase. He stopped, and turned back to Ginny; she was watching him anxiously, and looked relieved as he reached out his right hand again. They went up the stairs and Ron and Hermione followed. When they got to the room, Ron took one look at the teddy bear that Hermione had left on his pillow and shoved it under the covers while his face turned pink. He and Hermione sat on his bed, and Harry and Ginny sat on Harry's.

"I guess we should have a team meeting," Harry said. "I don't want to ruin it for everyone."

"You won't be ruining it!" Ron exclaimed. "Even with just one hand you're better than anyone else."

Harry shook his head. "Elspeth can play Seeker. She almost beat me at the tryouts."

"Harry, no." Ginny put her hand on his shoulder. "She won't do it. It's your position, it's your team. We can't play without you."

"Madam Pomfrey or even McGonagall will say no," Harry replied. "And why can't you play without me?"

Ginny looked at him closely. She knew that the anger he had shown after Chang Yun had pronounced his hand to be incurable was not — could not — be gone. She felt stupid for not having thought before of how the injury would affect his Quidditch playing. She didn't know what the answer was, but she was not going to let him give up. She put her arms around him and he leaned his head against hers.

"Harry," she said, "look where we are. You came and saved my life, and you brought me back to a place I love."

"I didn't have much choice," he murmured.

"You have a choice about the team."

He raised his head; there was a small grin on his face. "You know, you are very bad for my resolve. I'll think about it. Like I told Chantilly, let's not talk about it now." Ginny didn't point out that he was the one who had brought up the subject.

The rest of the day was one long party for the entire school. Classes had been cancelled, of course, since no one would have attended them anyway. At lunch, before the meal started, Professor McGonagall rose to make a special announcement.

"It has certainly been a week to remember, but the festivities are not finished. There will be a Feast tonight, and I have heard that the kitchen is out–doing itself in the number of courses, so leave a little on your plates this afternoon. And in the evening, for those of you who survive the Feast, we have invited the Weird Sisters back for a special stone concert, in honor of the entire school."

She stood with a puzzled look at the silence that followed, until Ron said loudly, "That's a _rock_ concert, Professor."

"Thank you, Mr. Weasley," the Headmistress called over the laughter.

After lunch Harry gathered the non–Gryffindors who had helped with the escape and brought them back to the common room, where the party went on until dinner time. The butterbeer flowed freely, and somehow Dean had smuggled in a case of mead; a few students had to make a side–trip to see Madam Pomfrey before the Feast. The Feast itself, and the concert that followed, became legends in the history of Hogwarts; no one who was there ever forgot them. Many students slept in the Great Hall that night, passed out from over–eating and exhaustion. Argus Filch, in an attempt to gain some revenge for the fireworks raid on his office, went prowling around the Great Hall and the corridors looking for members of Ernie Macmillan's team, the ones who had done the job. He caught only Erskine Labine and Zania Black snogging in a broom cupboard, and it would have gone badly for them if Professor Flitwick hadn't happened along and sent Filch back to his office, enraged and snarling.

The next day classes were cancelled again, as most students slept well into the day. The day after that, classes resumed and things started to return to normal. Late in the afternoon, when Harry was called up to Professor McGonagall's office, Ron, Ginny, and Hermione took advantage of his absence to talk about the Quidditch match.

"He's got to play," Ron said, as they sat down in front of the fireplace. "I've already talked to the rest of the team. If he wants to play, and they don't let him, then no one will play. We all agreed to that."

"But how can he?" Hermione asked. "I mean, how can he possibly catch the Snitch with his right hand? He can't bend it or grasp anything. It's like a block of wood."

"I don't know," Ron shook his head. "He'd have to use his left, and hold onto the broom handle with his right somehow."

"Could we rig some kind of strap?" Hermione suggested.

"That's illegal. You can't have anything attached to the broom."

Ginny had been silent, but she spoke up now. "He can brace himself with his right hand well enough. I've seen him make some pretty scary turns without holding on at all. I think we're talking about the wrong thing, though. If he wants to play, he'll play. The question is, does he want to play?"

"Well, what do you think?" Ron asked. "He talks to you the most. Has he said anything?"

Ginny shook her head. "I've tried to bring it up, but he keeps putting it off, says there's still time to decide."

"Why don't you get the whole team together and all work on him at the same time?" suggested Hermione. "You'd have to be careful not to push him too hard, but —"

"I don't care about pushing him too hard," Ginny interrupted, somewhat brusquely. "He's a big boy, he needs to deal with it. But I do think that's a good idea, Hermione." She looked at Ron. "Let's have a team meeting tomorrow."

At that moment Harry stepped through the portrait hole. He came over to the fireplace and sat down next to Ginny. "Boy, do I have news for you blokes," he grinned. "They're disbanding the Order."

Ron whistled. "Wow, it's really over, isn't it?"

"Yeah, but it isn't just because the war's over. It's also because Kingsley's Minister and Tonks is Head Auror. I mean, the Order practically _is_ the Ministry now." He paused. "I just thought of something. They don't need the house at Grimmauld Place anymore. What the hell am I going to do with it?" He grinned again. "Anyone want it? It's a perfect fixer–upper. I'll even throw in a house–elf." Several students looked at them as they all, except Hermione, roared with laughter. When they had recovered, she had a thoughtful expression.

"What if you returned it to the Black family?" she said. "That would be quite a big deal in the Wizarding world, Harry."

"Yeah!" said Ron. "And if Kreacher went back, he could have his head mounted on the wall and die happy! See, Hermione, I'm always thinking about the welfare of house–elves."

"You are not, Ronald. And Kreacher deserves to be happy as much as anyone else."

"Not in my book," Ron muttered, and looked away from Hermione's scowl.

Hermione turned to Harry. "Can I make a suggestion? Give it to Zania. Her heart's certainly in the right place."

"Hmm," Harry pondered. "That's not a bad thought. Let me think about it for a while." He reached for Ginny and she took his hand and smiled quizzically.

"What?" she said. "You look happy."

"I just feel good. We're all alive, and no one's out there waiting to kill us. I can't tell you how much I'm looking forward to this summer." He looked at Ron. "I think all I want to do is sleep and eat and fly. Do you think your folks would mind if I moved in, at least for a couple of months?"

"Are you kidding me?" Ron said incredulously. "If you do anything else my mum will go find you, bring you back home, and tie you to a kitchen chair so she can force–feed you."

"And I'll be holding you down while she does it," Ginny had a bright–eyed grin on her face.

Harry leaned back in his chair. He had a tiny smile and a distant look in his eyes. He glanced at Ginny and their eyes met. "Let's go for a long walk," he said. He rose, and together he and Ginny disappeared out the portrait hole.

"He's so different," Hermione said with a sigh. "It's great to see him happy, after all this time."

"That's for sure," Ron agreed, and he took Hermione's hand. They sat in silence and watched the fire crackling in the grate.

The next day at breakfast Ron suggested to Harry that they have a team meeting to talk about the third match. Harry grunted but didn't look up from his plate of waffles.

"I'll take that for a yes," Ron said. He got up and went to the other tables to tell the rest of the team members. When he got back to his seat, Harry and Ginny were having an animated conversation.

"You _can_ do it," Ginny was saying. "I've seen you stop on a Knut and do a one–eighty with both your hands off the handle. Of _course_ it's different in a match, but we have plenty of time to practice. At least you've got to try."

"I don't have to try anything," Harry replied stubbornly. "I don't feel comfortable about it. And I don't want them feeling sorry for me, and letting us win just because..." He trailed off, looking disgruntled.

"Mate," Ron declared, "I have seen the Chudley Cannons fly right at a Beater whose arm was broken and whose eye was so swollen he was half–blind. They will show no mercy, believe me."

Harry scowled. "This is different. It's not a real match, they'll feel sorry for Harry Potter and his poor hand. I'm not playing."

"If it's not real, then why did we all need to go to the hospital wing after the first match?" Ginny demanded. "And I didn't see Salinger being sorry for you when he got that signal from the Keeper."

"It's different."

Ginny made an exasperated sound. "It's not different. But listen," she spoke over Harry's protest, "just come to the meeting, okay? If you still don't want to fly, then I'll accept it."

Harry agreed, but not gracefully, and Ginny rolled her eyes at Ron. She got up. "Where are you going?" Harry asked a little anxiously.

"I have a Charms class, dear. I'll see you later." She winked surreptitiously at Hermione and left.

"Oh," Harry said to her back as she strode out the entrance. "See you later." He looked uncertainly at Hermione. "Was she angry?" Hermione shrugged and also got up and left before she could lose control and burst out laughing.

"Was she angry?" Harry asked Ron.

"You're asking the wrong bloke, mate," Ron declared. "I never know nothin', and I find it safer to keep it that way." He also left, leaving Harry to puzzle it out as best he could by himself.

Ron had arranged the team meeting for late afternoon in an empty classroom. When they had all gathered, Ron told them that Harry didn't think he could play Seeker for the final match. Everyone protested loudly, but Harry remained adamant.

"It's going to come down to the Seekers again," he said, "and that means you need someone who actually has a shot at it. I don't see how I can do it." After fifteen minutes of sometimes heated arguments, Elspeth, who had not said anything yet, spoke.

"Harry," she said diffidently, "we all came and helped you when you needed it. Why can't you help us now?"

Harry stared at her. "What do you mean?"

"The whole school helped you and Hermione get out of the castle. If we hadn't done that, Ginny and Ron may h–have b–been..." She stammered to a stop and looked at Harry with limpid eyes. No one spoke, and Harry looked around the room at solemn faces. He glanced at Ginny and then down at the floor.

"Okay, I'll play," he said almost under his breath. He looked up at Elspeth. "I'll play." A broad smile broke out on her face, and she jumped up from the chair she was in and hugged Harry.

"Thanks!" she said. "A guaranteed win!"

On their way back to the common room Ginny took Harry's arm. "Are you really okay with it?" she asked.

Harry put his own arm around her waist and pulled her against him. "Yeah, I am. You'll have to score a lot of goals, though, just in case."

"I can do that," Ginny smiled, and put her head on his shoulder as they walked along. Hermione was waiting in a chair in front of the fireplace, and looked up as Harry, Ginny, and Ron sat down. "So?" she said.

"They talked me into it," Harry replied. "Elspeth actually had some pretty good points."

Hermione glanced at Ginny and gave her a thumbs up. "Good for Elspeth," she said.

The final Quidditch match was scheduled for the day before the first anniversary of Professor Dumbledore's funeral. A memorial service had been planned, and having the Quidditch match at the same time would make it more of a festive occasion than a somber event, which befitted the new tenor of the times. Harry did well in practice, and the whole team once again was feeling quietly confident. Dinner with the Cannon players the night before the match was decidedly different this time. For one thing, Ron wasn't angry about losing the previous match. And Forrester Salinger came right out and asked Harry about his hand, and Harry showed him how he was using it as a brace and catching with his left. After the meal Salinger rose and, in front of the entire school, presented Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione with a silver chalice as an appreciation from the Cannons for what they had done. It was eventually placed in a glass case in the entrance hall, where it remained as a tribute to the students who had helped defeat Voldemort.

The crowd at the match was more festive, larger, and louder than at either of the first two. The referee admonished both sides that he would not tolerate any "non–regulation maneuvers," as he put it. The Hogwarts team played hesitantly at first, and fell behind. But with some determined flying by all three Chasers they gradually caught up. The lead went back and forth, and again it became a game for the Seekers.

The score stood ninety–all when both Forrester and Harry spotted the Golden Snitch almost at the same time. They were not near each other, and they dove from different angles. The crowd noise became overwhelming as they streaked downward. The Snitch swerved wildly, and Salinger, who was closer, grasped at empty air. It zipped right past Harry's right side, and he instinctively switched hands; his left, which had been outstretched, gripped his broom, and his right hand reached for the Snitch. It swerved again and touched his gloved fingers, but he could not close on it. It veered again right into the open hand of Forrester Salinger.

The two Seekers hovered on their broomsticks, looking at each other. Then Harry pulled away and circled up. The crowd had gone eerily silent; only a low murmuring could be heard around the stadium. Harry paused, and far below Ginny put her hand to her mouth and felt her heart skipping. But Harry zoomed back down, and as he passed Forrester he grinned and swatted his back. The crowd erupted again, but this time a chant of "Harry, Harry, Harry" gradually filled the stadium.

The teams landed. Ginny ran to Harry and they stood facing each other. "That wasn't such a bad ending, was it?" he said.

Ginny smiled through tears. "No, not for our last match together at Hogwarts."

Salinger was standing next to them, and Harry was about to speak, when the Chudley Seeker took Harry's right arm. He lifted it up, and also raised his other hand which held the Snitch. They both acknowledged the cheers that rolled around them. Salinger stepped back. He picked up his broom and raised it in a salute to Harry Potter. The rest of the Cannons, standing behind him, did the same.

The locker room was neither boisterous nor subdued. They all felt that they had played a good, tough match, and could have won but for the caprices of the Golden Snitch. Harry and Ron sat together and talked with the other players and with the people who came into the dressing room to see them, but they did not want to take off their Quidditch robes; it would be the last time they wore them at Hogwarts. Their teammates decided to take a trip into Hogsmeade to celebrate, but Harry glanced at Ginny and she shook her head; the taste of the last trip there was still too strong.

So Harry, Ginny, Ron, and Hermione walked to the lake and around it to the White Tomb. Rows of chairs had already been set up for the memorial service, but they sat on the grass with their backs to the tomb, looking out at the lake. Harry threw pebbles into the water awkwardly with his left hand. They talked about the match, and the end of term, and the coming summer. At one point they saw the flash of a silver body breaking the surface far out on the water. The mermaid, if it had indeed seen them, took no notice. Later, when they were walking back along the lake, they never saw the small band of centaurs passing silently through the forest nearby. The centaurs saw them, of course, but also took no notice; they cared little for the affairs of wizards and witches.

# # # #

Harry, Ron, and Hermione finished at Hogwarts a few weeks later, and the day after, Harry went into Hogsmeade and bought the Hogs Head Inn from the goblins who owned it; he paid a high price, but for what he had in mind the price was worth it. He did not tell Ginny, though.

He spent the summer at the Burrow, and when Ron and Hermione joined Bill and Fleur for a vacation in the south of France, he had Ron's attic room to himself. He and Ginny often went to the clearing and flew on their Firebolts, and they also took long walks around the woody English countryside. But once a week Harry went away for a day, and would not tell Ginny where or why, only that it was a surprise for her. She knew, of course, that it had something to do with his offer to live in Hogsmeade during her seventh year, but she didn't want to spoil the surprise, so she said nothing.

The Weasleys threw a huge and wild seventeenth birthday party for Ginny at the Burrow. It was attended by the entire family — including Charlie, back from Romania — all of her Quidditch teammates, every student who had helped Harry and Hermione get out of the castle, and most members of the Order of the Phoenix. The next day Ginny and Harry flew to Hogsmeade and Harry brought her to the Hogs Head. It was completely renovated on the inside with paneled walls, chandeliers, a hardwood floor, and a new bar. The upstairs, where Harry would live, was converted into a flat with large picture windows, brightly painted walls, comfortable oak furniture, three fireplaces, and a cozy bedroom with a four–poster. On the mantel over one of the fireplaces was the photograph of the Order of the Phoenix that Harry had found in Grimmauld Place. In the meadow in back where Ginny and Ron had fought the Death Eaters, Harry had planted an apple orchard.

Ginny's seventh year at Hogwarts is another story and a happy one. Except for classes, she spent most of her time in Hogsmeade. A month after she graduated there was a wedding at the Burrow. Their life together is also another story, and mostly a happy one with the inevitable bumps and bruises that they got from living with someone as strong and strong–willed as they both were. For Harry the knocks were nothing compared with what he had experienced "before Ginny." He had not had a family since he was one year old, and nothing else mattered.

Harry's scar never troubled him again, but he bore his maimed hand to the end of his life. Many powerful wizards and witches came to him and tried to heal it, but none could. He liked telling jokes about the hand, saying that it glowed in the dark and he never needed candles or the Lumos charm; that it ruined forever his chance of a career in the Muggle military service because he couldn't salute; that his greatest frustration was that he could never become ambidextrous.

Like his mentor Professor Dumbledore, Harry came to consider the loss of a hand a modest price to pay for ridding the world of Voldemort. And he always insisted that it was not Snape's magic that had stopped the unendurable pain of the Killing Curse, but the tears of his beloved Ginny.

The End


End file.
